Experiments of the Empire
by ARAJediMaster
Summary: For a little mouse called Jonathan, he only wanted to live an ordinary life. When he is abducted, along with eleven mice and twenty rats, they are subjected to an evil experiment to further the life of Darth Sidious, better known as Chancellor Palpatine. Follow Jonathan and the Rats of NIMH on their quest to escape, and learn where they go before "The Secret of NIMH" begins.
1. Prologue: Beneath the Surface

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

The Secret of NIMH:

EXPERIMENTS OF THE EMPIRE

Civil war! A thousand years of peace and liberty upheld by the Galactic Republic have come a bitter end as the Clone Wars break out in the Outer Rim.

While the Jedi take up arms against the Confederacy of Independent Systems, they are oblivious to a secret Sith experiment in uncharted space that could tamper with the power of the Living Force.

As SUPREME CHANCELLOR PALPATINE of the Republic journeys toward a secret laboratory light-years beyond galactic civilization, an unknown traveler secretly follows him into a galaxy far, far away...

 **PROLOGUE**

 **BENEATH THE SURFACE**

 _Omega Base, 1974_

Except for the lighting panels in the walls and overhanging lights in the ceiling, the corridors of the base were as dark and silent as the project it would take part of. The personnel walking down these halls would often experience moments of claustrophobia and paranoia, probably because of the dim lighting, and the fact that nobody knew what the Supreme Chancellor had in mind; what he wanted to do with the research facility hidden underneath the American medical laboratory, the National Institute of Mental Health—or NIMH for short.

Nobody knew what Palpatine's intentions against the recent separatist movement were, or if the Separatists caught wind of the facility and were preparing to strike. Some had speculated that anti-droid pulse weapons were underway, others that it was surveillance equipment that could spy on a suspect ship within an entire star system, and few dared to imagine biological weapons like a trihexalon variant, animals that could hunt down Jedi and droids alike, or even a vaccine that could bring the dead back to life.

Although there was no way anybody could know about its location or detect it, it still presented its occupants with a sense of loneliness and dread of being isolated from the Republic. They had little hope of assistance in the event of an attack from the Separatists; but it was a higher likelihood that their own project that could be a deadlier threat to the entire base. Security personnel consisting of Republic Army and Navy troops, as well as the newly commissioned clone troopers, patrolled the base relentlessly. If they failed to stop any mishaps during testing, then it would be all over for them.

As the old spacer's saying went, no one would hear them scream in this corner of space. Not even on a remote unknown world that was nowhere on any of the navigation charts.

But with the base commander, Colonel Khorrus, in charge, it was unlikely that there would be any sound to be heard unless he requested it specifically.

There were four things that were heard in Khorrus' presence; first and foremost was the sound of his boots pounding on the ceramic and durasteel floors. Whenever it echoed throughout the corridors, that precise militarized pattern, the troopers and workers would stand at attention and salute him as per proper procedure. If he wanted them to speak up, then he expected a full and concise report as well as good news, the second sound to be heard around here. If Khorrus had no intention of seeing or hearing from them, then they were silent. But the one thing he detested was anybody slacking off the job. Power tools whirred and computer boards clacked at his arrival, the sound of productivity was what he wanted to hear.

Even a few short years in the military branch at the Galactic Academy had honed his character not only to be efficient, but to expect his command to be as efficient as well. It had taken seven months to construct the base when it should have been over six and a half months. The recent failure of one of the power generators two months ago hadn't helped matters. Nobody knew what happened exactly or who could be responsible for it, but Khorrus didn't care who it was as long as another accident was prevented, and that everything would run smoothly again.

Not a month before the accident, the Republic commenced a preemptive strike against the Separatists on Geonosis. Despite the crippling blow to their military, the failure to capture the Separatist Council along with their leader, Count Dooku, proved to be costly. In little over a month, the Separatists had reassembled their armies and struck back hard. Although the Droid Army's efforts were countered, they remained a clear reminder of how close the Republic could come to collapse, and why the base should have been completed sooner.

But first, Khorrus' top priority was to ensure that the base would be fully operational today. There was an inspection team coming and he wanted everything to be perfect. Stolidly, he marched toward the space and air control center.

Supplies were still needed to run and maintain the outpost. Specialized power cables, generators, and converters were just some of the needed items to sustain themselves. They were also expecting weapons and ammunition as well as food, medical supplies, and the classified material from this supply run.

But despite their need for the supplies, the transports had to be especially quiet on the delivery runs. Although the planet the base was established on was relatively primitive compared to them, they still had the technology that could spot approaching ships before they reached the surface. Of course, the carrier would never be seen thanks to political disputes on opposite sides of the planet that nobody would bother to notice. The difficulty was getting the supply shuttles planetside without being detected.

Here in the space and air control room, that was just the problem the engineers and technicians were working on at present. The control room was just an assortment of computer monitors and consoles all directing the traffic of incoming spacecraft and redirecting civilian aircraft away from the area around NIMH. On the front wall were more monitors that calculated the projected courses of the various airborne vehicles in the general vicinity, along with satellites in low orbit, any approaching starships outside the system, and communication traffic of military and civilian channels.

They were preparing to test a specialized satellite to mask a probe's approach when the doors to the room hissed open. In stepped the base commander, looking as grim and no-nonsense as usual. The lieutenant on duty announced, "Atten—tion! Colonel on deck!" Everybody who was able to stood up and snapped to attention. They were soon dismissed with a nod, and returned to duty.

The lieutenant was the only one who remained standing to deliver his report. "We've just started to power up the satellite, sir," he said. "All systems appear to be nominal. We are ready to dispatch the probe and begin testing weather manipulation and radar masking beams."

His superior nodded grimly. "Good work, Lieutenant. I expect everything at peak efficiency." His tone projected the air of dignity despite his nasally voice. "I have received word that we have an inspection group en route to this system within a week of this planet's time. Are all the base's systems fully operational?"

"Almost. The ventilation systems in Section A-3 near one of the labs are being checked out for full operational status..."

Khorrus ground his teeth in frustration. He had a good guess on who would be working on those systems, damned if it wasn't those two slackers... "Are Misters Azzameen and Dekkar currently on that assignment?"

"Yes sir."

The colonel growled quietly. He had been correct in assessing that Tomaas "Ace" Azzameen and Eltar Dekkar were responsible for repairing the vent systems.

Khorrus did not know how they got enlisted into the Engineering Corps, nor did he want to. Those two, he thought, were nothing but troublemakers who didn't seem to care about the urgency of their jobs. This wasn't entirely true, but as long somebody had to take the heat for the power generator shutdown, those two fit the bill.

First things first, He reminded himself. He stiffed up straight and resumed his air of authority and professionalism again. "Commence the test, launch the probe." The lieutenant nodded his acknowledgement and began relaying the orders to the satellite operators.

Holo-displays and console lights flickered, dissipated and re-coalesced to show images of the planet as well as a number of spy satellites in orbit; satellites used by the superpowers of this world known as the United States and the Soviet Union.

Another image showed two unusually designed satellites in larger orbits than the spy satellites, and another display showed a hidden launch tube inside one of the strange satellites. The missile inside the tube actually held a vessel for a communication probe. It would listen in on any radio transmissions sent by SETI, or the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. Its mother com satellite would intercept the radio waves and redirected them elsewhere to prevent interference whilst it took in Republic transmissions and beam them to the base's com systems discretely.

The other satellite was just as critical as the com satellite. Its special design permitted an array that would bend light not only around itself and its sister satellite, but around where the carrier ship, the _Prosperity_ and her compliment of cargo shuttles; preventing inquisitive stargazers from seeing. Thanks to a specialized radar jamming system and a beam to create cloud cover against the photo satellites, the ships would land undetected.

Once all the instrumentation checkouts were completed, the okay for the probe was given and the launch commenced. Another bank of consoles briefly showed the probe's arc of descent toward the planet, then vanished in an instant from the screens. A third group of screens showed the probe approaching the Eastern Coast of North America on specialized sensors, and a fourth group displayed the area around the probe's landing zone clouded by fog and, apparently, rain clouds.

Suddenly, an enormous hole seemed to appear in the ocean where the probe would land. It halted in mid air and descended slowly into the whirlpool. Instead of being pulled inside the vortex of water, the probe remained in the relatively dry center.

Khorrus watched without pleasure or excitement as he saw a channel of matter-energy forming within the vortex. The tunnel was level with the probe where it extended toward the coast itself. The machine floated through the shield tunnel until it reached an armored door. Once the probe had entered the door, and the door closed, the energy tunnel and the vortex dissipated.

So did the tension in the room soon after.

"The test has been successful, sir," the lieutenant reported. "Sensors confirm total radar jamming, perfect cloaking field, transmission interception and redirection, stable matter parting and tunnel formation toward the excavated hangar tunnel."

Khorrus just nodded without turning toward him, "Good. I leave you to maintain control of all operations of our satellites. I expect them to be working in full order when the inspection team arrives. Now, if you will excuse me, I still have work to do." With that, the lieutenant saluted, and Khorrus marched out the control center.


	2. Chapter I: The Prosperity

**Chapter I:**

 **THE PROSPERITY**

 _Fear is the path to the Dark Side of the Force._

 _It is a black, cold fog that blinds all to certainty; it is a black sea that threatens to drown its victims; it is a dark forest where a hungry predator awaits its next meal._

 _You know this forest—you have travelled through it for many, many years. But now, it has turned on you. You can barely see a few yards ahead clearly, every brush, every rock, every shadow holds a deadly killer in its blackness._

 _By day, everything is bright and clear. Even if you cannot see everything in the forest at once, you have a better chance of seeing your enemies before they see you._

 _This is the nature of the Dark Side; it does not wish to reveal itself to its victims until it is ready to strike. As long as those can see it for what it is, what it can do, what it_ will _do, then the shadows have no power._

 _But in the dark, your senses begin to overwork themselves every sound becomes amplified, you grope with your hands to see if the unfamiliar shapes ahead are within striking distance, the shapes themselves appear to just as dangerous as it looks, but you can't tell for sure._

 _The darkness is everywhere. It will attack you, but you don't know where it will strike. Sometimes, those who are claimed by the Dark Side never even know about it, or fully understand it. Without a guiding light to see, you stand little chance in the dark. Anything can and will get you._

 _Fear is the first step to the Dark Side._

* * *

 _Outside the Solar System, RSD Prosperity, Forward Observation Deck_

Dr. Saang Hai stared out the viewports of the _Dreadnaught_ -class heavy cruiser _Prosperity_ at the mottled white-blue tunnels of hyperspace. To an ordinary human and most other species, it was just a monotony of blue and white broken up only random black "mass shadows" of planets, stars, nebulae, comets, and other phenomena as well as starships.

Hai, however, was not like most other species. She was Kaminoan.

While most would have viewed her planet as monotonous—not just because of the storms and oceans, but also the stark white interiors of their cities—her dark, almond shaped eyes could see in ultraviolet tones, like the Umbarans or the Gand, permitting them to see a variety of absolutely bright and brilliant colors no other alien could see. To her, she saw yellow-green streaks zooming past, purple-gold clouds and aurora envelope her vision, and blue, red, green spirals and rings flying past her from all directions.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Captain Freman said beside her.

Tentatively, Hai nodded. "It is, indeed, Captain."

It was the most mysterious, and the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. In her experience, no Kaminoan had left her homeworld before. If it wasn't for their stance on conducting their business with their clients coming to them, they might have gained a new perspective on the universe. Perhaps, she mused, if their interstellar neighbors had gained her kind's vision, they could see eye-to-eye even more so.

Despite the beauty of the view, she couldn't help but feel apprehension at lay before her. For the last seven years of her life had been bizarre beyond her mere imagination, the past two months were even more so; from being just a good doctor on Kamino to a private caretaker, then to being a doctor again for the larger galaxy, and now—

Now she wasn't so sure. Most beings would have considered it an honor to have Supreme Chancellor Palpatine contacting them and giving them a special assignment for the good of the Republic. But to Hai, it had been a sudden and frightful turn of events, just when she was settling in again. And she had hoped that Sami Shii could just live a better life in the Jedi Order's care.

Sighing, Hai turned to face Freman. "I must confess, sir, that this voyage is rather unnerving to me. The prospect of creating a serum to extend the lives of everyone in the galaxy may have delighted me at first, but being taken to a star system that nobody knows of frightens me."

Hai expected Freman to reassure her that with his years of experience, they wouldn't get lost along the way; or that with the Republic's presence on that planet, nothing could get them there. But his reaction was that of a man who seemed to have learned a terrible secret. Apparently, he was the one hoping for reassurance from Hai.

"Actually, I'm a little afraid myself. I've heard a few things about this crazy mission, but I'm not sure I'd want to know about them at all."

"What have you heard, Captain?"

"Something to do with bioengineering; some say that the Republic is planning to create some kind of monster the likes of which haven't been seen. Others claim that the tests have to do with resurrecting the dead. To be honest, I think the dead should stay that way.

"But I heard from one man, Major Karrdac, mention something about midi-chlorians. Any idea what that's about?"

For a moment, Hai felt the air evacuate her lungs in an instant; an icy sensation went down her spine. It may have been her imagination, but it felt like the ship's artificial gravity were malfunctioning, as everything seemed lighter.

"I had hoped Sami would be left out of this…" Hai breathed, horrified by Freman's words.

"I'm sorry?"

Hai's face scrunched in disatisfaction, then relaxed.

She had remembered she was in the presence of the ship's commanding officer, and it wouldn't do to have her get in trouble with him. And for good reason; she was meant to wait in her quarters until further notice. Kaminoan etiquette took over. In the medical world, you needed to keep your emotions of fear, disgust, and grief under control or else you were unfit to treat the infirm. In fact, that was the first rule in Kaminoan society.

"Perhaps you should know why they were interested in me in the first place; Sami Shii could be in very great danger, Captain, and I am responsible for it."

"I'm afraid I don't see how," said Freman, more than a little puzzled.

She bowed her head meditatively. "You should know the whole story, but promise me that none of this gets to Major Karrdac, should he use this information to harm Sami."

Captain Freman was abashed. Intelligence officers, as he was told by the other crewers of the _RSD Prosperity_ , were the worst people you could ever meet. They were nosey, and they hated it when somebody asked them "too many stupid questions for their own good," as those officers put it.

Even so, it didn't seem likely for Major Raith Karrdac to use some secret to harm Sami Shii. Sami was a Kaminoan like Hai, but she was a Jedi. What kind of harm could come to her?

Nevertheless, he promised Hai to keep these conference limited to the room. It was then he remembered Sami was still a Padawan learner, so she was still inexperienced and not yet a full Jedi. "Now, ma'am, why are you so concerned for Sami's welfare?"

"My duties were only to care for the welfare of all Kaminoans in my city," Hai began, "adults and children alike. Although my instructors discouraged medical care for anyone with 'genetic defects' and allow them to die, I quietly disagreed with them. While I received 'normal patients,' I was taking in patients that no other doctor would bother with for seven years."

"Go on, I'm listening," Freman said patiently.

"Sami had been reported hearing 'the voice of the wind, the rain, and the sea,' as well as the voices of her classmates speaking without opening their mouths. She had heard one of those children making fun of her, but that child claimed he had said nothing about it, though he admitted to it."

Freman frowned. "I realize Kamino has just been rediscovered only a few months ago, and we still are learning about its culture and education, but why that child would admit to making fun of Sami? Was it out of guilt?"

"No," Hai said sadly, despite her silken voice. "Shortly after, every one of her classmates were terrified when they saw her school supplies hovering around her. They had no idea what was going on, and neither did the instructors.

"The child admitted to making fun of her once it happened again; one of her supplies had flown at him and hit him. Sami claimed that no such thing happened, but the instructors immediately removed her from the class and called me in to deal with her.

"Initially, the city administrators wanted her destroyed, but her parents insistent on keeping her alive to find out what was wrong with her and, if possible, find a way to neutralize it. Kaminoans are obsessed with genetic perfection, you see; even to the point of xenophobia."

She paused, seeing Freman shudder in dread. He understood, of course, but he didn't like it. Hai couldn't blame him for it.

"In my initial analysis, I had found no genetic defects, no intruding organisms or viruses. In fact, she was perfectly healthy. But from a scan of a blood sample, I found something I could never imagine, something beyond my medical understanding. A high concentration of organisms that lived inside each blood cell, which I now know are midi-chlorians.

"The discovery was extraordinary at the time; no Kaminoan had had midi-chlorians counts as high as Sami did—none I know of. My peers recognized them as the source of the trouble immediately and advised that I take steps to destroy them. I had my doubts about this. I admitted that Sami's condition was abnormal, but I wondered if there were other factors involved."

"What sort of factors did you consider?" Freman asked. "I have little understanding of Jedi teachings, though I do know that Jedi discipline is extremely strict due to the potential damage uncontrolled use of the Force could be. Given that Sami would have been seven standard years old at that time, did you consider that she is not as mentally disciplined as an adult?"

"That was exactly what I had considered," Hai said, "but my peers were insistent. Unfortunately, my initial efforts to deal with them met with failure. When I tried to destroy the midi-chlorians in various test samples, the cells died with them.

"Further research into the midi-chlorians revealed more than I could ever have imagined. Not only were the midi-chlorians, in fact, symbionts to their host organism, but they were emitting an energy signature that had some semblance to a transmission carrier wave. But I had no idea what it meant.

"But I was able to detect another energy source entering the cells and sustaining them with a kind of 'life-energy.' Now I know that the midi-chlorians were communicating not only to their host, but to the Force as well, as I had found that when the cells were no longer receiving food molecules or concentrated oxygen, they still lingered on for several days after extraction."

Now it was Freman's turn to be amazed. "So the midi-chlorians actually call out to the Force to sustain its host with life? That is remarkable! That may be why Jedi are obligated to serve others, because they receive life from the same source as their powers."

"That would be my sentiment as well were circumstances different," Hai shook her head. "My research is the reason why I am here on your ship, why I am being taken away to this secret lab the Chancellor has built.

"When I compared her blood sample with various test animals, they too had midi-chlorians, but their concentrations were fewer than hers. So the blood cells did not survive as long as Sami's, which may explain her excellent health. It seems that the Force provides life to every living thing, and the higher concentrations are good indicators of beings who can sense the Force.

"My colleagues were stunned to learn that these organisms were living inside every living thing they could find, so they realized they couldn't kill the midi-chlorians without killing themselves. In the end, I eventually developed a serum that reduced the strength of the signals only enough to keep the host alive without having it to call on the Force to perform the miracles a Jedi could do."

Hai let a small breath of air escape again. Freman didn't need to ask why. She had created a potential weapon that could be used against the Jedi and put an end to the war in the Confederacy's favor.

"However," Hai continued, much to Freman's surprise. "It was only a partial success. We didn't know how long it would last nor whether we had done more harm than good. The Shii family asked me to look after her while she went about her daily routine. I had to inject with the serum periodically, just to keep her under control. She became very much afraid of her power as everybody else did, and she was never really accepted again into general Kaminoan society."

Freman saw Hai focus her gaze upon him, her eyes glinted with a broken glass from pain of that knowledge. "Sami almost never saw her parents from that point on, they refused to see her despite the injections. I had act as her guardian, for her sake. She missed her parents, and while she liked me very, very much, she knew I could never be her mother."

Freman stared at her. He had heard a handful of stories about a child so strong in the Force that caused his or her own people to shun and fear them, leading to a lonely and miserable childhood. Given that Kamino was a highly advanced civilization, a materialistic one, it would have been terrifying to experience something that was beyond their comprehension until the Jedi truly arrived to explain things.

Freman also imagined how frightening and painful for the doctor to go through, caring for a child everybody else saw as dangerous enough to be destroyed. And even if the Jedi had found that child, there was no guarantee that they could live without fear of offending somebody or in joy. That was something Jedi did not permit—at least, not as he could understand it.

The doors to the observation deck hissed open. In stepped a man in olive-gray drab; a uniform of the Republic Army, specifically Army Intelligence.

Hai gasped. It was Raith Karrdac!

"Major, sir! I didn't realize—"

"Captain," Karrdac said, ignoring her. "What is she doing up here on the observation deck?"

Captain Freman swung about in military fashion to face him. "Dr. Saang Hai has been experiencing 'cabin fever,' Karrdac, ever since we departed. I granted her permission to come to the observation deck for a short time only. I assure you she will be sent back to her quarter's immediately, but I tell you that this is _my_ ship—"

"Dr. Hai will not be going back to her quarters, Captain," Karrdac cut him off. "She is coming with me."

Hai's heart raced. This was it, then. She was going to the brig before her execution. Nonetheless, just a brief glimpse into faster than light hyperspace was no guarantee for knowing where she would go—

"She is scheduled to give out the full details our mission to certain key members of our project, and I expect that she remains where she is assigned at all times from this point on. Is that clear, Doctor?" Karrdac glared at Hai menacingly.

Hai swallowed. "Yes, sir. There will not be a repeat of this incident."

For a moment, Karrdac didn't seem to believe her. Then, "Very well. Now, follow me."

* * *

While Hai was relieved that she wasn't being taken away for be shot for disobedience, she was still unnerved by the man's very presence. From one accidental visit from a crewman—one that she was quite pleased to meet for being cooped up in three standard weeks' time, and the very man who relayed her request to Captain Freman—she had learned that this was to be expected of those "stuck-up, knowitall" Intelligence officers: strict on regulations, tightlipped unless asking questions, and they hated it when people saw or knew too much.

Walking down the gray corridors, she saw mainly human crewmen who rarely gave her a second look. Either they were had more important things to do or that she wasn't "human" enough to talk to her. Then again, with Karrdac around, they were more afraid of bothering him than her.

But neither prospect was enjoyable.

Hai never told Freman what happened after Kenobi had rediscovered Kamino. Shortly after the Battle of Geonosis, Kendal Nomad had arrived to Kamino to document its people. While the Republic was interested in the clone troops produced there, Kendal wanted to learn about their creators, their way of life and understanding.

It was during his studies that he learned of Sami through Dr. Hai. She didn't understand what Kendal was talking about when he spoke of things like the Force, or the Jedi at first. Those were subjects that were better left to the upper echelons of Kaminoans government. In fact, he had been actively discouraged from meeting with Hai despite his judgement in the Force.

When she was told of how the Force permeated through everything alive, Hai told him about the symbiont organisms in Sami's bloodstream and her research about it. Kendal investigated the matter immediately. His suspicions were soon confirmed: Sami was indeed strong in the Force, strong enough to become a Jedi.

However, he faced a number of problems with this idea.

Although Hai was delighted at the prospect of Sami finding a place where she could live without fear of being judged, the young Kaminoan was fourteen now. The Jedi took in their students when they were infants when their emotions did not yet develop, so they wouldn't accept her. Kendal also feared the prospect of her entering the larger galaxy would be too daunting for her. But he was also worried about what the parents would say to him taking their child away; many parents had scorned the Jedi as "baby snatchers."

The second problem turned out to be non-existent: Sami was, in fact, delighted to come with Kendal. As for the parents, they were only _too_ happy with the idea, which appalled Hai beyond her comprehension. She should have seen it. The Shii family was most wealthy, and had ties to Kamino's government. They were concerned for their daughter not for her sake, but for their posterity from the beginning.

Hai remembered the conversation all too well. Her father had practically ordered Kendal to take her away and never bother the Shii's again. There was had been no veil of politeness, despite her people's reputation of good manners as part of their business. Disgusted, Hai decided enough was enough, and left Kamino behind for good.

She enrolled in the Rhinnal State Medical Academy to earn credentials to get a position as a doctor for the larger galaxy, wherever it may be. Her previous medical training helped her progress well enough. Her teachers were greatly impressed, though she still needed to learn a thing or two.

It was only a few weeks ago that Hai had been contacted by Kendal with relieving news about her former ward: Sami was accepted into the Jedi Order, given the heavy casualties sustained in the early months of the war. The Jedi Knight, in turn, had been relieved that Hai was not present at the Battle of Kamino by then. He had feared that she was killed with a number of innocent civilians.

Shortly after, Chancellor Palpatine had contacted her with a proposal that rocked her very foundation of her soul. He had learned about her serum and wanted it. However, what he had in mind was the last thing she had ever expected that anyone would want with the serum. Palpatine had said, "My dear doctor, your research into midi-chlorians could be more useful than you would realize: with such knowledge, you could be instrumental in not only promoting increased health in other beings, but perhaps extend their lives indefinitely."

Hai was still reeling from that shock. What Palpatine was implying would have been the same as an intelligent being discovering the power to harness nuclear energy, or genetic engineering, or even the power to explore other galaxies in a very brief time.

Just then, Karrdac stopped at a door panel and pressed it. The door opened to reveal the ship's conference room and the project's key members. Hai stepped in uncertainty. Before her was a circular conference table; with six of its twelve chairs occupied. There were the members of the research team she would join.

* * *

The team consisted of Dr. Valnus Tion, a gray-haired, hook-nosed former instructor at the Rhinnal Medical Academy was a sharp-eyed neurologist acting as the scientific supervisor behind the project. With a piercing bureaucratic glare from thirty-five years of experience, there was no question why. Doctors Necros and Regen were the specialists in cellular and tissue activity and regeneration. Necros was rail-thin and bony-faced—he looked for all the universe like a skeleton with skin—whereas Regen was a fat man in his mid-to-late thirties. Last of all was the red-haired, bespectacled Dr. Hematos, who looked to be perpetually bathed in ice-cold water and shivered as such. Nothing in twelve years of biochemistry and microbiology developing various antibodies and vaccines prepared him for this voyage—Hai supposed she couldn't blame him for it.

Despite Palpatine informing her that Kendal Nomad would partake in the experiment providing Jedi insight—with Sami Shii to accompany him as his Padawan—Hai still couldn't believe that they were here, now. As a matter of fact, it was better for Sami to be here than out fighting the Clone Wars on some remote battlefront. It was as if the family she never had were reunited together for this occasion, despite all three knowing better.

Hai bowed her head and greeted all of them warmly. "Doctors, it is a pleasure to meet you all in spite of the circumstances of this endeavour. Nevertheless, I am confident that our efforts will prove to be beneficial for all the peoples of the galaxy, that we create a healthier and longer lived community."

The response was underwhelming; nobody applauded or even smiled. Their gloominess only amplified Hai's own.

"That was a most rousing speech, Ms. Hai," Tion said. His tone was anything but elated, and Hai knew it. "Now, then, on to business. What _exactly_ were we called to board this ship for?"

Translation: I'm bored out of my mind, and as a tenured professor at Rhinnal, I would like to get this done and over with so I can attend to my lectures again. There is nothing else in my life I would rather do at this point.

Even so, Hai had hoped that Tion would be at least a little interested in the project he had been assigned to. But as she prepared to begin the briefing, Hai heard Karrdac groan, "Blast it, where are they? They should have arrived by now. 'Clones are immensely superior to droids,' indeed!"

Hai wanted to ask what Karrdac was so irritated about, then thought better of it. Soon enough, however, she heard the clatter of plasteel armor plates along with the voices of two men arguing. Karrdac snarled as he spun around to face the troopers, one in the olive stripes of a sergeant, the other with red captain's marks..

"I'm telling you, Hunter," The sergeant said. "If we had gone down the maintenance access tunnels, we could have arrived here much earlier."

His companion, Hunter, answered, his voice a deep rasp. "Those are used only by technical crewmen, or during an emergency. Our situation does not qualify as such, Sergeant Copper. Commander Skywalker would never hear the end of this, after what we did on Thule for him—"

They jumped as he cleared his throat "Clone Captain CC 07/1081 and Clone Sergeant CS 06/2582, you're late. Most unbecoming in the Grand Army. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"We have no excuse, sir," Hunter sighed, shaking his head shamefully.

Copper muttered, "You should have listened to me and turned our assignment down."

"Now that you're here, please take your seats, gentlemen," Karrdac gestured to the empty chairs.

As the clones obeyed Karrdac's command—as per Kaminoan engineering for absolute loyalty toward their superiors, taking their orders without question—Hai took a datacard the intelligence officer gave her and she slotted it into the console before her.

"Seven years ago, I was called in to examine a student with abnormal capabilities. My studies had uncovered microscopic organisms, which I now know are 'midi-chlorians.' Not only did these symbiotic lifeforms provide the power of the Force, as you are well aware of, I'm sure, but they gave life to the very cells they inhabited. If my conclusions are correct, it appears that the Force truly _does_ exist in all living things, and the midi-chlorians call out to one another to support each other. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why the Jedi are obligated to help the innocent.

"But this does not mean that ordinary beings should not help others as well. During the time Sami Shii spent living in fear from her own people, I helped to develop a suppressant to keep her from using her Force powers while keeping her alive. When Supreme Chancellor Palpatine came to me, he said he wanted to my help to reverse-engineer it not as a weapon, but as a means to extend the lives of all beings in the galaxy."

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. Necros and Regen looked to one another in astonishment. Hematos shuddered dreadfully. Sami's eyes widened. Copper swallowed Tion raised an eyebrow. But Karrdac, Hunter, and Kendal's expressions showed little change at all.

Kendal stroked his goatee thoughtfully. He had a complexion similar to Senator Bail Organa with tanned skin, short dark hair and eyes just as dark—Kendal had once served as a decoy for the Senator, which worked beautifully.

"Very interesting that the Chancellor would turn down something that could have been useful against Count Dooku and his Dark Jedi for the betterment of the galaxy. Perhaps he has a heart after all."

"A heart, perhaps," Tion interjected, "but not so much as intelligence. Such experiments in midi-chlorians with that intent have been conducted before, with very little success."

He leaned in forward, his face contorting into something contemptuous and a matching tone. "Do you know, Doctor, how lifespans are actually attained? Research into improved and healthier food production; studies into _actual_ medical practices, all over extended periods of time—centuries even—not through tribal shamanism and serpent oil techniques."

"Your insight is most appreciated, Dr. Tion, but need I remind you," Karrdac retorted, much to Hai's surprise. "that first of all, the Chancellor commissioned this experiment and enlisted your services, so you would do well to go with it. Second, any of us familiar with midi-chlorian testing history will find that, indeed, most of the tests have gone—shall we say?—terribly wrong, and failed to deliver the desired results.

"Third, the Chancellor has recruited Dr. Hai because she has conducted _actual_ studies into the midi-chlorians, having developed a serum to suppress the Force without any prior knowledge into it. So I advise that you let her continue, please."

Tion straightened up, and resumed his seat. "All due respect, sir, it is in my opinion that our priorities, pointed out by Master Nomad—"

"Kendal, please," the Jedi Knight rose a hand in modesty. "I'm not a Jedi Master quite yet, I still need to train Sami to become a Jedi first."

"Our priorities," Tion continued irritably, "pointed out by _Kendal_ , should be to deal with the Separatists first before we can move into something for the general populace."

"Noted," Karrdac said. "But you still have your orders. Proceed, Dr. Hai."

Hai clasped her hands behind her back. "Due to the sensitivity of this mission, as Major Karrdac has explained, the _RSD Prosperity_ has been sent to the Telos system to a bizarre gravity cluster near Portas. The cluster is, in fact, a wormhole generated over thirty to thirty-five thousand years ago during the reign of the Infinite Empire—"

"A wormhole?!" Hematos exclaimed. "Have they lost their minds? Don't they know the consequences of hyperspace travel in a wormhole?"

"This is a hyperspace wormhole, Dr. Hematos," Hai said calmly. "That the Rakatans had developed during their rule. They had more knowledge of hyperspace technology than we had for millennia, apparently. Our destination is a planet theorized as the origin of humans in our galaxy, though this is largely controversial."

Hai tapped a key, and a hologram of the planet materialized. It resembled a near-perfect idea of what most species might consider to be paradise: seven continents along with numerous islands; four vast oceans and other smaller seas; and even the climate and terrain were varied too, from flat plains to high mountains. Sami gasped in astonishment upon seeing deserts, temperate forests and tropical jungles, icy tundras, and grassy savannahs and prairies.

Most of the others, save for Tion and Karrdac, shared Sami's awe. Kendal murmured, "There are only a handful of planets like this, several in the Core Worlds, but more likely somewhere on the Rim. Yet this one is the most unique that I have ever laid eyes on."

Another key tap zoomed in on the eastern coast of the northwestern continent. Soon, they were all looking at a city. A far cry from the more advanced metropolis on worlds like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa, but a city nonetheless.

But the focus of the hologram was a red flashing structure underneath the city. At first glance, it looked like a kind of bunker inside a carved out cavern. The structure showed a barracks, an administration level, communication equipment, power generators, and the laboratory.

"This is where we will conduct our research," Hai explained. "Originally, it was to be a simple Jedi outpost for a top-secret observation mission to study the growth and development of this world. However, because of the war, it has been converted into a full military base."

The doctor's voice then took on a grave tone, so grave that it made her feel uneasy. "Security cannot be any more tight than this. The Separatists must not learn of this outpost, or else the experiment, and possibly the galaxy, will be doomed."

Hematos frowned. "But surely someone on the planet may notice our approach once we enter the system?"

Karrdac tapped another key. It now showed two satellites in orbit. They were definitely Republic constructs. "This satellite," he said, pointing to one, "will generate a light bending field around the area where our ship will enter. Our course _must_ be within the area of the satellite's field or we risk detection. Even with the 'Cold War' between the 'United States of America' and the 'Union of Soviet Socialist Republics,' there are to be no chances are to be taken at all.

"Also, scientific institutes called the 'National Aeronautics and Space Administration' and the 'Search for ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence have been studying outer space for some time. Like the USA and the USSR, attention is discretionary with them as well. The satellite will redirect our communication signals to the lab and let us receive their signals without alerting anybody on the planet.

"As for our approach into the lab, this is our entry point." Karrdac tapped another key. The hologram highlighted a tunnel drilled toward the coastline, several meters below sea level. Hunter frowned. Then, an animation of a yellow field of energy-matter coalesced into a tunnel leading toward a hangar door, followed shortly by a whirlpool-like vortex on the ocean's surface connecting to the energy tunnel.

"Our engineers developed this matter energy tunnel to approach a concealed entrance as we make our landing through that vortex; then we can enter the lab undetected. Should anything else try to get in, they will have to contend with point-defense lasers and ray shields. The other satellite will generate sufficient cloud cover to mask our approach from any native spy satellite."

Hai said, "Several of the test subjects will be the animals of this planet; small, non-sapient animals that can be easily replaced should something go wrong, similar to several lab rats. However," she added, "We will have little to no knowledge of their anatomy, biochemistry, metabolism, neurological systems, etc. Therefore, we will require the assistance of select scientists from the planet to provide some guidance into our experiment."

"Scientists from—" Hematos shook his head in dismay. "I doubt they will _actually_ accept to aid us, specifically when there is a non-human here!" Within his trembling, terrified gaze, there was something else there too. Hatred. Uncontrollable, blazing hatred. Hai took a step away from him.

"I don't think that Dr. Hai will be in contact any of the scientists on that planet," Regen said. "What do you think, Major?"

"You are correct, Dr." Karrdac answered. "And even if they realize there is a non-human in their presence, we have taken steps to ensure that there will be no disclosure whatsoever."

Translation, Hai thought again: If the native scientists leak one word about our secret lab, then not only will their contracts be burned out, but so will they and anybody they have shared the information with.

Karrdac clicked one last key. "Any further information has been relayed to these datapads before you. Review them carefully, we cannot afford any mistakes on this project. It may take years, as you have said, Dr. Tion. And one last thing," he added. "You are to adopt different names to avoid arousing suspicion. They will be on your datapads, so remember them as well. Questions?"

"Just one," Hunter said. "Why us?"

"Excuse me?"

"Any two clones out of the hundreds of thousands of clone legions could have been selected for this top-secret assignment," Hunter pointed out. "So how did we qualify?"

Karrdac put his hands to his hips. "Really? Captain, according to your service records, you were under Commander Anakin Skywalker during the assault on Kessia in the final legs of the Dark Reaper Campaign. Your company was ordered to guard your commander's rear flank while he engaged the so-called Dark Reaper.

"During the engagement, you and your Sergeant 'Copper' went head to head with a battalion of droids outnumbering your men 5 to 1. I'd be more impressed by some punctuality on your part if it matched your combat skills—all but half a platoon were wiped out by the time Skywalker completed his objective at around the same time the droid battalion was devastated. I suppose you could have wiped _them_ out, but of course, you might not be here to tell of it."

Karrdac paused impressively. "Furthermore, it was Commander Skywalker himself who commemorate you for your actions, Captain, and proclaimed he would fight along with you anywhere anytime along with that other clone captain—oh, blast it! I forget who he was. The security in our laboratory will need your combat experience and command to better prepare them."

"And besides," Copper flashed a grin at his superior, "You need somebody to keep an out for him, right, Hunter?"

Hunter smiled back, in a rather mean way.

"Now, are there _further_ questions?"

Karrdac scanned the room. There were none.

"Excellent," Karrdac declared. "You are dismissed."

* * *

As everyone cleared the room, Hai looked up and down the corridor before heading back toward her quarters. Hai found it curious that Kendal and Sami headed down the same corridor she was taking. It was even more curious that to hear Sami talking about the planet in the hologram.

"Have you seen anything like it, Master?"

"I know of a handful," Kendal replied, "but I had never thought I would be going to a world like it in my life."

Sami paused, digesting the thought. Then she noted, "I have seen only the cities of Tipoca and Coruscant so far in my entire life. Nowhere in my wildest dreams did I ever think to venture out toward a world so rich and diverse as this one."

Kendal smiled. "This is a truly beautiful world. It is a shame that they are a rare thing in the universe, and even those worlds are still difficult to colonize, sometimes without damaging its ecosystem."

Although Hai was no Jedi, she could feel Sami's unease from Kendal's mention of ecosystem damage. "What do you mean, Master?" Sami asked.

Kendal gave a deep, regretful sigh. "Many people who settle upon a world can bring about terrible things; over-mining an entire world and sucking its resources dry, overhunting its native population, leveling habitats or polluting them as a consequence of over-urbanization, sometimes bringing alien species—animals, plants, or bacteria that do not belong, could upset the very balance of the world's web of life."

Sami gasped, "That's horrible!"

"It is," Kendal said sadly. "This has been commonplace in the history of civilization, and it can happen again, whether we wish or not. Often, it's by accident or ignorance that causes it. That was why our facility was built where it was, to prevent that harm to that planet."

Sami's pace now settled into a subdued one. She bowed her head sorrowfully. "If only more beings could understand the harm they could do."

"We learn from experience," Kendal said, "And mistakes. It is a great shame that often that mistakes are made with such dire consequences before we recognize them. But as long as we recognize our errors and correct them in the future, we will not make them so easily, will we."

Hai watched Sami's features soften and brighten, just as the doctor entered her quarters.

Just then, Sami saw Kendal absentmindedly pull something from his tunic, a small green-golden amulet. She watched him stare into it, as if it were a kind of crystal ball, or similar mystical tool. To her surprise, Sami could feel the Force emanating from the gem itself.

During her first days of training, Kendal had taught her to call on the Force to quiet her mind and let it fill her, speak to her to tell her its will. Sami was now hearing a kind of voice calling out from the smooth stone. Sami recognized such patterns in her youth before with Kamino's storms. This hurricane of power and knowledge could not be tapped into by her meager skills, yet it remained all the more potent; tamed, yet ready to be unleashed at will.

She thought, _Certainly, a powerful will—_

Suddenly, her Master gasped as he had seen something he didn't expect. "What?"

Sami rushed to his side. "Are you alright? What is it?"

Kendal shook his head. "It can't be—there's nobody else here—" He whipped back to face Sami at a speed that made her jump from her skin. "We need to contact security now."

"Why? What's happened?"

"I'm not sure what it was, but I felt a disturbance in the Force," Kendal stroked his chin. "The stone—while I was meditating, I could feel it briefly, but I couldn't pinpoint where on the ship."

Sami began to become alarmed. The stone didn't just hold a power of its own, it could make its owner's powers even stronger somehow. She backed away from him. "Wh-what? What was it?"

Kendal's reply was as murky as the young Kaminoan's mind, "Another Jedi…"

* * *

Palpatine stood by the viewport, staring out into the swirl of hypercosmic clouds and shadows. He never really took in the view up until now. Three standard weeks in hyperspace was a considerably long time to spend aboard a starship, even as big as the _Prosperity_. For most of his time aboard, Palpatine had spent most of his time kneeling in meditation. If there was to anybody approaching the door to the far side of the room, he would be the first to know. He would assume a posture of Supreme Chancellor, then take on the dignity of importance to speak with the intruder. Of course, the chances of such an occurrence were negligible, it was more likely an officer or one of the Jedi would announce their arrival at the planet Earth.

He had been prepared for that moment. He had prepared for such moments during his apprenticeship under Hego Damask. He was prepared just as the Sith were prepared for a thousand years while the Republic and the Jedi rested unchallenged. Now, however, as he felt the presence of the Force diminish around him, Palpatine had ceased mediating, lest the Jedi discover the truth.

Palpatine's name, as well as his mentor's, was simply an alter ego for his true identities as the Sith Lord Darth Sidious; and Hego Damask was Darth Plagueis. In his time, Plagueis had conducted experiments on the midi chlorians inside the cells of organisms still living to preserve that elusive spark of life the Force provided in all beings. Sidious had not gleaned as much information from Plagueis as he would have liked, even before he had intoxicated his former master with wine and tortured Plagueis to death when the latter was unconscious.

However, from what he learned, beings with a strong connection to the Force and an equally strong will over the midi chlorians could extend their lifespans beyond the norm. As the Jedi were feared for their superhuman abilities of speed and agility, telekinesis and mental manipulation, insight and foresight, there were those Jedi who had lived long enough to enjoy the prolonged aging the Force granted them. Grand Master Yoda, whose species enjoyed a long lifespan, was a prime example of nearly nine hundred years of age.

But Plagueis' goal, as well as Sidious', was to have the power of eternal life. Nobody else would know about this but him. And when his experiments had succeeded, the galaxy would yield under the yoke of the Sith for all eternity. Darkness would reign supreme, and nothing would challenge him, the incarnate of the Dark Side.

However, the experiments were but a stepping stone to gaining the power of living forever. Although the potential in Plagueis' studies held such promise, such efforts had never been actually achieved. That potential died when Plagueis went to his grave. But, no, that wasn't so. There was always another way. The answer was with Kendal's stone.

No, not Kendal's. The Jedi had been unfortunate to find it on Naboo, along with his Master and young boy. It happened in a cave deep beneath the planet's surface when the Jedi investigated strange earthquakes. The source of the quakes turned out to be a mythical beast of size and power unlike anything on Naboo. Whether it was coincidence or the will of the Force, the Jedi and the boy had narrowly escaped death and stopped the beast from producing the strange quakes.

According to Kendal, it was the boy who discovered the answer. The beast had been 'chosen' by the stone to guard it, and centuries of knowledge and power had driven it completely mad. It was as much as a surprise to both Palpatine and Kendal when they learned that the boy, Darwen Treblas, had gleaned this knowledge from the stone and used to save himself, the Jedi and much of Naboo. The beast had lived, but was freed from its caverns. Wherever it dwelled now, it was somewhere remote, wide enough where it could roam in peace.

If that stone had provided such insight into the boy, then why not a Jedi? Or in Sidious' case, the Dark Lord of the Sith himself? He could imagine it, the secret of eternal life within his grasp, thanks to that stone. Even now, everything was proceeding according to his design; Hai would produce the serum to extend his life for a time, Sami and Kendal would come along as insurance, and wherever the stone was, in Kendal's quarters or with him—

Suddenly, Sidious stiffened. A tiny tremor in the Force had reached his senses in the Force. But it wasn't Kendal or the Kaminoan Padawan. Just as rapidly as it came, the sensation winked out. Sidious shuddered, and resumed his role of Palpatine as he heard the com board chirp for his attention.

"Yes?"

"Supreme Chancellor," the chief of security said. "Master Nomad has informed me that he has 'sensed' something aboard this ship."

In that moment, Palpatine realized the sensation wasn't limited to him. Could it have been the stone probing his mind, as if judging to see if he was worthy or not? Or was there something out in this region of space that the records that the Jedi Archives had left out deliberately, or was it how it naturally felt out here where it wasn't as pervasive in his own galaxy? But Palpatine only asked, "What was it?"

"He wasn't sure," the chief replied. "The sensation, he said, was extremely brief, and he could not feel it again. However," the man went on, his tone steadying a bit. "From what he had discerned from what he could feel, Kendal believes that it is another Jedi."

The Supreme Chancellor frowned. " _Another_ Jedi? How is this possible?"

"I couldn't say, sir," The man's frown was evident from his voice, even if Palpatine could not see or sense him. "However, he asked to me to inform you of this for your own safety. I have ordered a lockdown while security tracks down and takes down the intruder."

Palpatine smiled a cruel smile, but the chief would never see it through the speakers.

If the intruder was indeed a Jedi, if he was to be captured, then things might not be as much a hindrance to Palpatine's designs after all. The Jedi could make an interesting test subject—perhaps not now, but at a time when Kendal nor the Order could not interfere. Even if the intruding Jedi was unsuitable for testing, he could be used as propaganda to frame the Jedi for spying on him and help turn public opinion against the Jedi ahead of schedule.

Palpatine said into the comm board, "Very well, Lieutenant. Keep me informed of your progress and alert me when the intruder has been identified and dealt with."

"Security out." A crackle of static ended the transmission.


	3. Chapter II: The Farmer's Market

**Chapter II:**

 **THE FARMER'S MARKET**

Warmth from the sun's early morning rays began to spread into Jonathan's burrow. Both he and Elijah stirred momentarily, but it was Jonathan who got up. The gray-furred mouse stretched his brown-splotched limbs, and his mouth opened wide as he yawned.

His dark beady eyes blinked themselves open from a long night's sleep. That was the time of day he was usually active where he could hide in the darkness as brought back food to his smaller, brown-furred ward. His sleeping patterns had changed dramatically since Elijah came into his life and he took him in. Now he took active risks during the day to appease Elijah's patterns of feeding and rest.

Still, Jonathan adapted to this new style of life without complaint or objection, no matter how strange it might be.

From the sound of the birds singing, Jonathan could tell it was still summer. Today was a beautiful day, one of the last few before autumn began. The mouse smiled as he looked at his charge. "Still asleep, little brother? Pretty soon, we'll be up and about at night like we're supposed to be doing instead of during day, especially when it's safer," he chuckled softly.

Jonathan poked his head out the mouth of the burrow, and inhaled deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Despite his altered schedule, he had to admit that mornings were more pleasant than evenings. And he could enjoy it, provided that he kept a wary lookout for hungry birds or cats that might like to snack on him.

It was the last thing he had promised his mother before leaving the den where he grew up. Of course, Mother, I will," he had said then. And he wasn't going to break it now.

Jonathan turned back to look at Elijah just before he left to forage for breakfast. "Stay right there, little Mister, I'll be back soon."

Mice had often lived near human civilization, scavenging from the latter's harvest avoiding traps and guard animals whenever possible. However, most mice preferred the wild due to the growing dangers of poison and trap technologies. The only kind of mouse who would dare venture onto people's property was either very clever or foolishly brave.

Jonathan may not have been the wisest mouse, but he still knew better than to forget about checking for dangers whenever he went onto Farmer Slade's farm. Although there was plenty of edible grasses or nuts elsewhere, Elijah seemed to be fond of the crops that grew in Slade's garden for the morning meal, and pestered Jonathan into having some of it. In particular, he loved raspberries the most. Jonathan too seemed to share his little brother's taste in the red fruit, despite his reluctance at first because of its origin.

He scurried toward the shadow of a large oak tree, and up to its thick, knobby trunk. Jonathan gauged the distance from his burrow and the tree to the nearest fencepost. There wouldn't be much time before the farmer would be waking up and preparing himself for the day with his own breakfast before tending to his crop and harvesting anything that was ready—though chances were, Jonathan thought, that the human was already awake and getting ready.

From where he stood near the tree, the fencepost looked to be miles away to Jonathan when it was dozens of yards away. If the gray mouse could stick to the shadows and kept quiet until he got back, everything would work out just fine.

"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered.

There was no real thought to his mad dash to the fencepost, it was all instinct— pure adrenaline-fueled instinct. Jonathan ran as fast as his four tiny paws could carry him. He didn't stop until he reached the post's shadow; Jonathan paused for a breath while searching for the next shady place to hide.

He spotted a pail and rushed toward it; then toward the tractor, and then the tool shed. Jonathan skittered toward the steps leading from the porch, and then into a small garden. In the garden, he could smell cucumbers, spinach, carrots, lettuce, broccoli, and tomatoes.

But Jonathan filtered out the smells of the garden vegetables for the succulent taste of raspberries. When he found what he was looking for, he smiled and licked his lips.

"There you are," he said playfully as he traced the scent back to their source— a cluster of raspberry bushes.

Jonathan slunk into the canopy of the bushes' leaves to find the right berry. He needed to find a berry that was not only big enough for Elijah and he to eat, but small enough to be carried. There was also the matter of how ripe they would be. Unfortunately, Jonathan could not see their red tones as well as Elijah could, but at least his sense of smell could pick out which berries were ready.

He began sniffing again when his sense of smell and hearing picked up something he didn't like; a thick oily smell and a sputtering, ratcheting sound. Jonathan jumped. He crouched as low as his legs would let him to the ground and waited. The noise came again.

Jonathan's ears pricked up and listened. He had never heard anything like it before in his life, but at least its source wasn't coming his way. He raised his head to see what it was, but he couldn't see what it was through the berry bush's leaves.

There was a pause. The period of time between the unnatural roars—whatever they were—had been longer than the first two times. Under normal circumstances, Jonathan would have waited until it had completely gone away. But curiosity overcame the young mouse.

Leaving the raspberries behind temporarily, Jonathan crept out of the garden up to the edge of the porch. Just as he craned his head around the porch's support leg, he ducked back as he heard the strange sound again.

"Consarn it! What's wrong with this thing?" It was Farmer Slade.

Jonathan peeked again around the corner and saw a large brown object Slade had just exited, with a furious slam of the door that made him wince. Whatever it was, it had seen better days from some of the mud caked around the wheels and splashers.

The machine had headlights like the tractor, but its front end was too short for one, and it had something around the driver's seat, a kind of cabin to protect the driver from the elements. Its wheels were evenly sized, Jonathan realized, and were too small for use in the fields when they were muddy. He wondered why Slade had such a thing.

But the most unusual feature of the human contraption was the trough toward its rear, where the back wheels were instead of beneath the driver. Jonathan frowned. He didn't understand the purpose of the machine: obviously it was meant to go somewhere, but where and why?

In the struggle between man and vermin, the humans developed new techniques and machines to better exterminate pests or keep them at bay; the animals could only persist or avoid. If Jonathan could only see what this new fangled thing could do, maybe he could find away to escape it more easily than if he were unprepared.

As he circled around the machine, Jonathan's nose twitched again. He recognized the various fruits and vegetables from the garden before that he thought he could smell the garden again. To his surprise, the scent came from within the back trough of the machine.

Jonathan frowned. "What would they be doing in there?"

Jonathan looked back in the direction of the garden, and thought if he should go back to find the raspberry he was looking for. However, Jonathan could not see the red tones of the berries as well as Elijah had. He had lived a world of smell, with only scraps of sight. There were some things beyond Jonathan's understanding—including Slade shouting at the machine as if it were alive.

But Jonathan decided to focus on what he could solve, such as why the farmer would place good food near something that spewed foul-smelling fumes.

Reaching the back of the machine, Jonathan leapt up onto an extrusion of the machine behind and between the wheels. He glanced up at the top of a metal wall between him and the inside of the trough. His sense of smell had told him that this was where the food was.

With a monumental leap, he made it over the wall and into the trough. What he was nothing like he had expected. Jonathan saw the food he had smelled before, everything that he could eat from the fields or the gardens. But they were in boxes, or baskets, or buckets, anything that could hold them. Jonathan felt his breath being sucked from his lungs upon seeing the collection of fruits and vegetables.

"Whoa," he gasped. "Now that's what I call the mother lode!" He found himself walking through the assortment of small crates, studying their contents and the material of the boxes. Holding the smaller crops were simple, green plastic bins with slots or holes in the side, while the heavier produce was held in wooden crates.

A little smile began to play across Jonathan's face. The farmer had done so much hard work here, bringing the crops together in one place. If he could take just one berry and get out of here before the farmer could fix his machine and go where he needed to go—

Then it roared again. Jonathan jumped, and curled himself up into a ball. The sound was then accompanied by a chugging purr. He couldn't even hear Slade chuckling about his repair job, amended by his hope of getting a proper job after something about "Market Day."

Underneath him, Jonathan didn't notice the machine was moving until it began to gather speed. When he did, the mouse peeked open one eye and looked around. Above him, he couldn't see the farmhouse anymore. When he saw the tree he had taken cover behind earlier, Jonathan sprang to his feet and raced to one of the walls of the trough.

He scrambled to the top of the wall, and looked down in horror. At this speed, he couldn't tell where to land safely. Jonathan looked down the length of the machine to see ahead if there were any possible places where he could jump into with the least amount of injury. He waited and waited, but it was no good. At this point, it was going way too fast now, and even if Jonathan could see somewhere safe to land, he wasn't sure if he would make it to it in time.

Jonathan's grip slackened, and he fell back to the bottom of the trough. As painful as the landing had been, the grim truth that he would never see his home again nor Elijah was even more so. After the encounter with the weasel, Elijah had made Jonathan promise never to abandon him no matter what because Elijah's parents were dead; his father was lost to predation, his mother to old age. Jonathan was curious about this; his mother hadn't aged that quickly as Elijah described, so how could she grow old while he remained young?

But that didn't matter now. His promise was broken, and now Jonathan was a hypocrite and Elijah would perish alone in misery, because of what he had done. Jonathan started to curl up again, not in fear, but grief.

Jonathan began to sob. "Elijah, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For leaving you behind," he answered through sobs. "I let my curiosity get the better of me, and it led me astray. Now, I'm being taken far away to… to… I don't where. I should have taken the berries from the garden and went home when I had the chance."

"But there's plenty of them right here," Elijah's voice insisted.

"That's not the point, Elijah, I should be home right now with you. I'd rather be safe and sound in your company than having all this food with nobody to share it with."

Elijah's voice sounded so close to Jonathan, as if he was actually talking to him. "What do you mean, Jonathan? I'm right here! I'm aboard with you!"

Unconsciously, Jonathan reached out and grabbed a hold of something soft, something furry. He recognized the smell as Elijah's. "I want to believe you, little buddy, but I can't. I'm being taken far away from our burrow, and you're still—"

Then his senses caught up with him, and his eyes went wide with surprise.

He blinked, and shook his head as he saw his paw gripping his adopted little brother's shoulder right in front of him. The younger mouse's expression was one of bewilderment and worry.

"Elijah? What are you doing here? _How_ did you get in here?"

"I followed you, Jonathan—" Elijah said at a rapid pace.

Jonathan's eyes went wide. "You what?"

"This thing made a lotta noise and woke me up," he gestured to the floor beneath him. "I wanted to see it, and saw the man shouting at it. Then I saw you go into it, and it made all this thick black stuff, and I coughed, and it was moving away, so I jumped in."

"Elijah—" Jonathan stopped himself before he could shout at him. All the shouting would do would hurt Elijah rather than help the problem he was in. Jonathan began again calmly, "Elijah, you know it's not okay to leave the burrow without me saying it's okay, or if a predator is trying to get you. I don't want you getting hurt too."

All Elijah did was stare at him for a long while. Then tears began to flow down his cheeks.

"Elijah—"

"I thought you'd get hurt, Jonathan," the younger mouse was now sobbing. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I don't wanna lose you like Mama and Papa."

Jonathan found it hard to breathe, and soon found himself wrapping his arms around Elijah. His brother pressed his snout into Jonathan's shoulder, sniffling and using his fur to wipe away the tears. He rubbed the back of Elijah's head gently, and kept rubbing for several minutes.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan breathed. "I'm sorry. It's my fault for getting us into this. Listen, I'm going to get us back home. Somehow, I will."

Elijah looked into his eyes. "Really?"

"Really," Jonathan said, with grim determination.

It turned out to be much easier said than done.

As the truck drove further and further away from the farm, the two mice could only stare at what lay before them. While they shared a raspberry for breakfast—possibly one of the last good things to eat for a long time—they saw the shadows of telephone poles sweep over them, like looming, unforgiving sentinels.

Wire fences blurred across their vision whenever they peeked over the side, imprisoned by the vehicle's speed. They saw other farms pass by; farmhouses, barns, windmills, all standing lonely in the midst of the countryside. But the strangest sight they saw were tall posts with flat yellow, white, blue and green shapes on top. They had markings neither mouse could make out, the speed of the truck notwithstanding. The shapes became more and more common as they sped along.

Barely an hour had past before Elijah began to pace up and down the length of the bed. Jonathan took a glance up. High above them on the back of the "cabin" was a rear window. It was high enough for Slade to look out of, if he chose to do so. Seeing mice in his machine would not be something either party looked forward to.

"Elijah! Stop that, and get over here!" Jonathan motioned to a dark corner directly underneath the window where Slade couldn't see properly; a blind spot to hide under.

Elijah marched unhappily over. "How much longer, Jonathan?" He said. "I wanna get off."

"Not yet," Jonathan answered firmly. "If you keep pacing like that, he'll see you for sure from up there." He pointed to the bed on his right, then up to the window.

"But we've been on this thing for so long! We'll never get home now!"

Jonathan grabbed him by the shoulders. "Look, mister, that's the kind of talk quitters use. You're not a quitter, are you?"

"No…" Elijah shook his head.

"Listen, we're going to find a way to get home, no matter what. I promise you."

"Even if it takes forever?"

"Even if it takes forever," Jonathan said grimly determined.

Soon afterward, their chance had come nearly ten minutes later. Slade's machine began to gradually slow as they approach a cluster of brick buildings and shining towers the likes of which neither mouse had seen before.

"Jonathan," Elijah whispered as he saw the brick red, and silvery, buildings tower over them like stone behemoths. "Where are we?"

Jonathan looked up and around. Everywhere, he could see only buildings, skeletal metal scaffoldings, large signs with gaudy pictures, glowing signs with similar markings to the road signs—but he still couldn't understand them—metal antennae of many kinds that absolutely alien to him. Vegetation was sparse; just patches of grass and very few trees alongside the road in holes on upraised cement lanes for people. Even their clothing was just as gaudy as the signs.

The smells were unbearable too, everywhere smelled of the oils and gases that wouldn't be out of place with the farmer's tractor or truck, along with other noxious fumes. Even the air felt oily and loud with blaring music, high pitched shrieks of sirens, and the growls from other trucks and similar vehicles that it hurt their ears. Such a habitat was inconceivable to them!

"I don't know," he breathed back, too low to be heard by Elijah over the cacophony. "I don't know."

Risking another peek over the side, the two saw awnings of red and white and green stripes shading open boxes of fruits and vegetables of many kinds. There were meats and fishes there too.

But even as they took in the promising smell of food, they picked up another smell. It was familiar, but far more concentrated than with Slade. A crowd of men had gathered around one large square under a striped roof with no walls. They were all farmers, delivering their goods at stands or haggling over prices with buyers. Thankfully, there wasn't any blasting music, though the chatter was still noisy.

Jonathan grimaced. "If they weren't in the way!" He hissed under his breath. "The risks outweigh the benefits too much."

Presently, the truck slowed down until it pulled into a space between two other trucks near a sidewalk, stopping briefly before reversing to evenly space itself between the trucks. It paused for a moment; then the engine died down and stopped completely.

The mice heard the door to the truck's cab open, and Jonathan herded his little brother back behind a box of lettuce. Moments ticked by; they listened as Slade pulled out several of the largest crates first. He was about to pull out the crate Jonathan and Elijah were behind when he looked at his current load. The man looked back at the crate for a moment, then with a sigh, Slade turned toward the square and whistled a little tune.

Jonathan blew out a sigh of relief. Wasting no further time in taking advantage of the man's redirected attention, he urged to Elijah, "C'mon!"

Elijah followed obediently through the maze of remaining crates until they jumped out onto the pavement. Their landing jolted them up through their bones momentarily. But Jonathan knew they couldn't afford to let it slow them down.

"We have keep moving, go! Go!"

Both mice sprinted toward the sidewalk and jumped onto it. They darted behind a hydrant out of view from Slade and the human gathering.

Elijah had not gathered his breath yet as he found himself and Jonathan hurtling down the street as fast as their little legs could carry them both. Sporadically, they would take cover behind garbage bins, mailboxes, street signs and lampposts, and even by the trees and their upraised brick beds from approaching people.

On and on they went, ducking and dodging beneath the enormous feet of men, women, and children alike. More than once they were nearly trampled to death, or run over by baby strollers and cars when crossing the streets.

"Watch out!" Jonathan cried out as a bicycle ran across his brother's path. Luckily, the little mouse stopped in time just as it zoomed passed. As soon as it was gone, they began their pattern of running and hiding again.

Soon, Elijah's feet began to ache in half an hour from the hard, biting concrete of the sidewalk. Never before had he had to run so fast, so hard, for so long. He was beginning to feel short of breath too. Several minutes later, he began to fall behind.

Jonathan slowed and shouted behind him, "C'mon! We can't stay here! It's not safe here!"

"My feet are hurting, I can't keep up!"

Time seemed to have stopped when a woman's voice shrieked.

Elijah turned and looked up to see a hissing cat in the woman's arms. The human was frightened enough without the cat's claws digging into her arms. Everybody stopped and looked to see what was wrong. Elijah was too terrified to notice them anyway.

Jonathan groaned in frustration. They had been seen, and he had to go back to get Elijah.

Scurrying as quickly as he could, Jonathan got his mouth around the scruff of Elijah's neck. Unfortunately, carrying the smaller mouse slowed Jonathan down further; avoiding the massive feet became increasing difficult. Once or twice, he was nearly stomped to death on _purpose_.

To make matters worse, the cat had pushed itself free of the woman's hold and stormed through the crowd after the pair.

Just up ahead was an alley to his left. If he could make it, he and Elijah would be safe for a time. Jonathan bobbed and weaved left, then right, zigzagging wraithlike through the river of people. Even then, it felt like they were getting nowhere nearer to the alley. People jumped clear from him, as if Jonathan was carrying a disease that could kill them all.

The cat's progress wasn't so impeded as its victim. It took full advantage of the people's dread, drawing nearer toward the rodent. Once the predator was in range, it pounced—too far onto a man's leg. Somehow, the mouse had gotten smart and stopped short of its intended path. Now the man was screaming, shaking his leg to get the cat off.

Jonathan's escape was instinctual rather than calculated; even he didn't fully understand what had prompted him to stop. But he wasted no further time. He turned sharply into the alley just as the cat had pulled its free of the pant leg. It charged after them again. Jonathan didn't stop until they had squeezed underneath a dumpster.

The cat spat and hissed as it pawed and probed for the mice in the gap. Jonathan pulled Elijah further and further back away from the monster's claws. Soon enough, predator and prey realized that the hunted were out of reach. Not to mention that they weren't the trouble. The woman had been frightened enough that she plowing through the crowd to get further away from the mouse and back home. She had forgotten all about her pet.

Jonathan let go of Elijah before surveying the street outside. It didn't take long before the people had let the event slip their minds and resumed their business; all except four—the woman, the cat, and Jonathan and Elijah.

Jonathan sighed in relief. That had been close. Too close. It had been his first brush with death.

Over the sound of his own heart beating, he hear a soft, muffled sob to his side. Jonathan turned toward it.

"What's wrong, Elijah? Are you hurt?"

"No, it's all my fault," the young mouse sniffled. He was curled up in a ball "I shouldn't have come here—No! I should never have met you!"

Jonathan was aghast. "What?!"

"If I never met you, we'd never be in this mess! You'd still be home, and I wouldn't be trouble to anybody at all!" Elijah said, distraught. He began to wail bitterly. Tears streamed down his snout in rivers. His nose was smeared with runny mucus, and parts of his fur he ran his nose over became clumped with snot.

"Now, you listen to me!" Jonathan said, wrapping his arms over his brother. "This _isn't_ your fault, it's my fault. _I_ shouldn't have gone into that truck, despite my better judgement. I'm the one who got us into this mess, and it's my responsibility to get us out.

"Look I couldn't survive at your age alone in the wild, no mouse could. Remember that weasel? You wouldn't be here if I had gotten you away from it. You're my brother now; you asked me if you could be my brother, and I said yes. So, I'm going to take care of you like my little brother."

Elijah's sobs lessened, but he still wasn't convinced entirely. He was too scared and tired.

"Right now," Jonathan went on. "All we've got to do is just have to hunker down and wait, find food and shelter, then we look for Slade's machine and it's back to the farm!"

"How?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" The two jumped at the sound of a reedy old voice. "Going _back_ to a farm? Finding food and shelter here in the _city_? What are you? Country mice?"

The owner of the voice was an old light-gray mouse—in fact, his fur was nearly white. Jonathan cocked his head at the mouse and frowned; from the sound of his voice and stiff movement, the newcomer looked to be two—if not three—years of age. Few mice lived past over a year in age. And no mouse was ever pale in the wild as far as he knew.

"Who are you?" Jonathan demanded.

"That would be the very same question I want ask you," the old mouse retorted. "Don't you know it's dangerous to be wandering the streets at daytime?"

Jonathan sighed exasperatedly. Having gone through it was enough. "I realize that, but my brother—"

"He's going to have to learn that soon enough, now won't he? And you haven't answered my initial question, why would you want to _back_ to a farm? There are still people there!" The old mouse nearly shrieked his last sentence.

"There are too many people here!" Jonathan said, trying not to shout. "We don't belong here. This place isn't natural! And we want to go home."

The old mouse shook his head "But why a farm? Eventually the farmer's bound to notice you there if you keep pillaging his crop!"

"My burrow is near the farm, and Elijah needs food and shelter until—"

"Who's Elijah?" The old mouse threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Me," Elijah squeaked.

Both adult mice turned toward him. The old mouse's eyes grew wide. "You?" He turned back to Jonathan. "You mean you want to take your son back home with you to safety?"

"He's my brother," Jonathan corrected. "And yes, I don't think we'll survive here in this place, this… _city_ —or whatever you call it. We've almost been run over by people and their strange machines, not mention nearly ending up as a cat's breakfast.

"Any help you can give would be greatly appreciated," Jonathan sighed forlornly. "If there is a way out of here, we'll gladly take it."

Now the older mouse sighed too in understanding and nodded. "I'm very sorry for what I called you before, I didn't realize your situation then." He paused, then added, "Just how exactly did you get here?"

Jonathan was about to answer when Elijah spoke up. "Jonathan found all this wonderful food in Farmer's Slade's… " He stopped, faltered, and pondered what it was they stowed away in. "This tractor-thing with a long trough in the back and the seat in front in a cabin sort of thing—"

"What are you talking about? A 'tractor-thing'?" The old mouse burst out befuddled.

Jonathan explained the look of the machine in better detail. "So what _do_ you call it, then?"

"Well, it sounds like to me like it could be a pickup truck. Farmers use them if they want to transport their crops over long distances without having them spoiled in the heat—assuming nothing happens along the way to us."

The old mouse paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Jonathan stiffened. He wasn't entirely sure about him. True, that the elder had apologize for his rude behavior, but any male mouse would feel animosity towards other males that they didn't know. He sincerely hoped that this male was different as Elijah was with him.

Suddenly, everybody's ears pricked up at a scuffling sound. They turned to see a cardboard box shuffle for a moment then lay still. Someone, or something, had been watching them.

The old mouse smelled the air briefly. "Follow me," he ordered.

Reluctantly, they did; scurrying on all fours away. Jonathan glanced back at the box before asking the elder, "What is it?"

"Rats," came the hissing reply.

 _Rats!_ Jonathan shuddered. Although rats looked like very big mice, their similarities ended there. Rats were cunning and dangerous opponents to mice, and would often kill them if they got the chance. Terror welled up in him from some esoteric memory of mice in mortal combat against rats; swarms of rats; whole armies of rats.

Maybe, Jonathan considered, that was why humans hated mice too because their near-identical appearance with rats. Humans were the dominate species of the world, and as such would kill the offspring of their enemies before they could breed. It was thought that rats had spread a deadly disease into their population long ago, fueling the hatred towards the vermin, and mice felt their situation grow worse.

All three ducked into a hole alongside a brick building. They caught their breath within moments, leaning against the inside wall. Jonathan took a peek to make sure they weren't followed. They weren't.

Sighing in relief, Jonathan said, "Thanks—um…"

"Ages," the white mouse answered.

"Jonathan."

"How far did you travel from this farm?"

"Dunno," Elijah said. "We were travelling really fast, and it was very long before we got here."

"Do you know how many miles you've gone?"

The country mice's eyes went wide. "Miles?" They chorused.

Then it was Ages' turn to look utterly bewildered, a paw had slapped to his forehead. "Great heavens above, don't you know what a mile is?"

"No."

Ages started to say something, then thought better of it and buried his face in his paws. He forgotten he was talking to mice who lived in the wild! They would barely travel yards away from their home, much less miles, just to find food! "I suppose, then," he said, shaking his head, "I'll have to take your word for it."

"The only way you two can get home is if you find that truck again and ride it back—preferably when he isn't looking." Ages scanned the moldy wood planks, crumbled bricks, and frayed carpeting through the rundown rooms and halls; all the while asking where the mice had got out when they came. Jonathan told him as best as he could.

"It looks as though we'll need to go to the Farmer's Market then," Ages said.

Jonathan stopped, stunned by Ages' words. "W-what?"

He hoped that Ages wasn't serious. What the old timer was suggesting was suicide! Had he _not_ heard what he had told him? There was _no_ chance that any of them could get there and get into the truck again without being seen by the humans.

"That's where he's going to be!" Ages said exasperatedly, turning toward him. "Do you want to get home or not?"

"But, Mr. Ages, we'll never make it!" Elijah protested. "We'll be killed!"

"There's got to be another way," Jonathan agreed.

"There is," Ages said impatiently. "But we'll need to retrace your steps first, so that we can know where to go. We'll need to reach the top of this building so we can see where you came from and how you got here.

"As for getting there, there's a sewer system underneath the city. Once inside, we'll need make our way to the market; find the truck; and then you can go home. And try to stay out of mischief," he scolded as an afterthought.

Jonathan and Elijah agreed!

The three mice traversed up the through the gaps in the building's walls, stretching themselves to get from one support frame to the next, to get to the rooftop. Elijah would sometimes call to them to slow down, leading Jonathan to carry him by the scruff of the neck again. They both wondered how Ages' strategy was going to work. They would be able see a great deal of the city from up there, the old mouse explained, and use their sense of smell and sight to pinpoint where the market is before taking to the sewers.

However, Jonathan severely doubted this. He, like all mice, could only see and smell so far. None of them were bloodhounds or eagles or any kind of animal with supreme senses. Elijah, on the other hand, seemed to be enthralled with this. Whatever power gave Elijah to see in full color seemed to give him sharper vision, something Jonathan was curious about—he had been blind at birth before his sight developed in time.

There was something else that Jonathan couldn't help but wonder. Ages seemed to know his way around the city from what he'd seen so far. The old mouse had also forgotten more about humans than Jonathan might ever know.

It wasn't long before navigating through the frames and support beams of the infrastructure that they found the thing they were looking for, a shaft of golden-white light. Ages squinted through the hole. He nodded his approval. Then he turned back and ushered them forward. Neither country mouse were totally prepared for what they were about to see.

Jonathan was long accustomed to seeing things closer to his level, namely berries, roots, and anything he could eat or hide in. It wasn't unnatural for mice to have an uneasiness of heights, so as not to break their necks; they had no desire for greatness nor adventure, just to live for another day.

But what they saw was the breathtaking sight of their lives. They forgot about the terrifying sights and sounds and foul smells found at ground level. The sun was now almost shining from the highest point in the sky upon the many-story tall buildings overshadowing the crisscrossing roads beneath. Glinting in the sunlight were the tall, gem-like windows of offices and skyscrapers.

But it wasn't the buildings or the streets below that astounded them. It was the scale of the city itself. Jonathan now began to understand why humans were the dominate species of the earth. The best any mouse could build was a twig and grass nest; no other creature in the world could create anything as vast as this urban center, and no other creature could build anything like humans could at all.

Jonathan felt his gut lurch upon seeing the city from this height, partially from what he had just experienced from the immense civilization before him. He had also remembered that he was several storeys above everything else. Somewhere inside him, he could feel his surroundings beginning to sway. He was nowhere near the edge, but it still made him queasy all the same. If he swayed any further, he could very well fall and break his back or even his neck.

Jonathan jumped as he felt something tap on his shoulder. It was Elijah, asking if he was alright. He wasn't, not really. But he didn't tell him that, so he wouldn't give the youngster reason to worry.

Jonathan decided to step back and let his brother do the work. Elijah had used his superior sense of smell and sight to find the square. The younger mouse had remembered what the shapes and colors of the tents were when they had exited the truck. Jonathan squinted to see where his brother saw it, then he beamed at the flapping forms of the tents and awnings. "Well done, Elijah. Well done, indeed."

Ages had frowned. "How would he know these sorts of things?"

Jonathan started to explain, but found that he couldn't. He didn't even begin to fully understand much about Elijah himself. The best he could say was that Elijah had more experience than any of the other two, but he didn't want to know how Ages would take it. So he decided to tell him, "Elijah's got good memory, and he's very smart too."

"Hmm, very interesting," was all Ages murmured. He squinted too. Whether or not he could see the square was something both country mice weren't sure about.

Under his breath, the old mouse muttered. "Funny how a youngster can see it with his eyes wide open, I never could see at that age. All I knew was woodchips for bedding, glass walls and metal bars, a wheel for exercise, and all my brothers and sisters before—"

Ages stopped. He shook his head in disgust.

Jonathan cocked his head at him. "What are you talking about?"

"It's–it's nothing," Ages irritably replied. "Now, it's too dangerous to go out at this time of day. We'll have to wait until dark, then we'll head into the sewers."

Just then, Elijah stomach started to growl again. He asked, "What'll we do until then?"

Ages looked at him incredulously. Didn't Elijah understand the gravity of the situation? "Dear boy, during the day, we mice find somewhere to hide until nighttime when we can't be seen! What else are we supposed to?"

"Well," Elijah began simply, "I've always been awake during the day, eat three times every day, maybe play sometimes, but I go to bed when it's dark. What's wrong with that?"

The old mouse gaped. As innocently as the youngster had asked him, it was just as inconceivable for Ages to imagine a life like that for him.

"Elijah, there's a good reason why," Ages sighed in exasperation. "That cat nearly killed you and Jonathan! I was asleep hidden away in a cardboard box when I heard the commotion outside. I shouldn't have let my curiosity get to me, but I didn't understand why the cat wasn't after _me_. That's when I saw you and Jonathan under the dumpster, and this is where we are now.

"No sensible mouse would venture out in broad daylight! Not unless you were very good at sticking to the shadows. It's not just the dangers of humans here, there are predators who eat mice! That's why!"

Jonathan stared at them in utter disbelief. He figured that one day, he could coax his brother into adopting a lifestyle of waking up at dusk, then going to bed at dawn. But the gray mouse would never have yelled his protégé like that.

"Mr. Ages, yelling at him isn't going to change anything!" Jonathan barked in outrage.

Age protested. "He learns how to survive—!"

"I'll be firm with him about coming out at night in good time. Unless we stay here for long," he added darkly. "I'll make sure Elijah learns some sense in good time."

"Time may not be something either of you have," Ages fumed. "Who knows how long the farmer will be or when he'll come back. Your mother would be ashamed of both of you, meddling with human machines and affairs. She'd be ashamed of you especially, Jonathan. You shouldn't have brought your brother here at all!"

For a moment, Jonathan wanted to take every ounce of built up anger on that old timer, but took in a series breaths before he told him. "Elijah isn't a littermate, he doesn't have any other family."

Ages stared at him in utter disbelief. "What are you talking?"

Then Jonathan made the confession he would never have told his mother if she went looking for him. "I adopted him. I found him several weeks ago when I looking for a new home. A weasel was attacking him, and I got him out of the way before drawing it away. It ended up in a tree's knot while we made our escape.

"After that, he asked me if he could come with me. I asked him why, and he told me that his parents were dead; his mother died of old age and a cat killed his father. I asked him where his siblings, if they were still around. Elijah said they were gone too, and he couldn't stay long with other creatures he's met. So that's why I took him in."

With that, Jonathan waited to see Ages' reaction. As expected, the old mouse was stunned. His eyes bulged wide—their whites showing—the mouth hung open. Unexpectedly, it had the effect Jonathan had hoped for: sympathy for the poor youngster.

"I–I didn't–didn't know—" Ages faltered, touched by the young adult's words, his compassion for the helpless, lost soul. Most mice would have just shooed the pup away, or even killed him just as the weasel almost did. Ages now understood the capacity of compassion this mouse had for others.

He looked back at the pup—Elijah looked to be two to three weeks old. At this stage, he would need milk badly. But as Ages studied him, he looked rather healthy and clean at this point, especially without a mother to provide that nourishment. Still, for someone this young, Elijah would need food to stay alive—very good food.

"We can only hope," Ages said after a long silence, "that we find that truck as soon as possible."

Dusk came rather quickly, Jonathan thought, hours later. As a matter of fact every day seemed to be growing shorter as well as cooler. The change wasn't drastic, but it was noticeable. He had noticed something else that occurred near the farm where he lived too; the small gold and red patches in the trees were getting bigger and bigger. Ages had told him, "Officially, for the humans, autumn begins in a week. As you can see though, it's happening right now."

Jonathan swallowed. He had never seen autumn or winter, but the instincts passed on from millions of generations of mice told him what was to come. Neither he nor Elijah told Ages that the latter had been through six to seven winters. The story of how they met and were living together now was quite enough.

In the afternoon, Ages had gone off for a short time and brought back some bread, vegetable, and cheese scraps for them to eat, and the food had been gone by evening.

All three climbed their way back down to the ground in search of an entrance to the sewer pipes. Ages had explained that, save for certain humans that came down to inspect and repair any leaks in the pipes, they wouldn't come down looking for them.

"It's the rats down there that I'm worried about," he finished.

Both country mice shuddered.

"Rats?"

"Unfortunately, yes. And they don't like intruders," Ages warned as an afterthought. "So watch your step. This place can be very rough."

The mice had gathered around an open manhole cover by then. Inside was the foul, brown smell of human fecal material, along with the yellow smell of urine of man and rat. Mixed in with these foul odors was the musty smell of mold that grew alongside the walls of the pipe along with something else that could be dangerous to their health.

Elijah began to twitch uncontrollably and threw his arms around Jonathan in the hopes he would shield him. Soon, he whimpered squeakily. Never had he felt so terrified in his life. "J-J-Jonathan, I-I don't wanna go down there!"

Ages was about to grunt impatiently when Jonathan clasped his brother's paw in his own. "Neither do I," he said, sympathetic to the little mouse's dread. "But if Mr. Ages says we have to go into the sewers to get back him, we'll have to."

Elijah gave a whining squeak in protest before Jonathan and Ages' gaze silenced him. The youngster sighed; they were right. He didn't like it but they were right.

Together, the mice hopped down the rungs into the darkness below. The only source of light they got was the shaft shining down through the hole. Even then, they were nearly blinded by not just the darkness but the sewer stink as well. It wasn't a particularly powerful odor, but it wasn't much bearable either.

Looking down the tunnel, they picked a direction and made their way.

For Elijah, the journey was unbearable. He couldn't see where they were going, and he wasn't particularly happy with the smells either. When he tried to cover his nose to block out the stink, Ages scolded him for neglecting it to spot approaching danger. But the little mouse didn't care. He just wanted to get out of here and back home.

Hearing wasn't much easier for him either. With the drips of water splashing upon the pipe floor and into the river of water and sewage, the pup would jump from the sounds of scritching noises. They were just what he would hear before an unfriendly creature would leap out from the shadows and attack them. As painful as the hot, hard sidewalk was, this was worse; the ground was cold and damp. It was slick with something slimy—something he didn't want to know about.

"It's going to be alright," Jonathan said kindly. "It won't be much longer now."

Elijah smiled back for he knew that Jonathan had to be right. He didn't know how, he just knew it. A few minutes later, he sensed a new smell, a more pleasant smell right above him.

However, it turned out to be much longer than they thought. Although they found the square without running into trouble, they couldn't find was the truck that took them here. But Ages said it was to be expected; most of the trucks had already gone home for the night, and some didn't stay around for long either. The mice would have to find a place to hide and wait until morning.

For a week, they waited for the truck. Some of the trucks had a similar shape to their truck, but they didn't smell right and vice-versa. Sometimes, even when the truck was the right shape and smell, Elijah would protest that it was the wrong color. One early morning, as Jonathan was dragging him towards a truck that seemed to be right, a fat, stubble haired farmer came out instead of Slade.

Every day, as the morning went on, they would scurry among the giant humans to pick scraps of food before retreating into the sewers and finding a new place to hide in the city. After that, they would return every night to wait for the truck.

Despite Ages' efforts in finding food, even Jonathan was starting to grow a dislike for the taste of city food. Both longed for the fresh, succulent taste of country food again. Around them, the nights grew steadily colder, the red-gold patches on the trees had spread to cover entire leaves, and some of those leaves had begun to fall.

Following half a night of trudging through the "rat's maze" of pipes to reach the square on their last night here, all three gasped for air. It wasn't the stink getting to them, they had just escaped after upsetting a rat colony and were completely exhausted.

"You see… why you should… keep your nose out… for trouble," Ages panted.

Both country mice were breathing heavily too. Jonathan looked back and down into the hole they just vacated. "You're sure... we lost them?"

"Those rats were just making sure we stay out of their territory. They won't follow us here unless they were really angry.¨

With a few more weary pants, all three had caught their breath. But they collapsed from exhaustion of the action. Somehow, Elijah managed to "see" the rats in the darkness. Ages thought he had smelled or heard them, but Jonathan said he was actually looking in that direction when gave out the warning cry.

According to Elijah, he said he could see the rats behind him without turn his head to look, though he didn't know how. He also said that he saw them running after them when they close behind. When he did turn to look, the rats were there, and they charged after the mice as they ran.

Elijah spoke animatedly, "And they were running just like I saw them before I could see them—"

"Elijah—Elijah, slow down!" Ages threw up his hands to gesticulate his meaning. "You're not making any sense about this! How could you "see" those rats without seeing? I can't make heads or tails of it—"

"It's alright," Jonathan assured him. "We're safe now, thanks to him." He turned back toward the open hole. "And I hope that's the last we see of those rats, or those sewers." The country mice crinkled their noses at the mention of it. Neither were fond of the idea of going back in there, so they silently prayed that it would be the case.

Wearily, all of them got up and staggered toward a shadowy corner. "Now, then, we'll just have to wait until morning as usual," Ages said. "Maybe this time, you'll actually find your truck and leave here for good."

Without any further word, they nodded. The mice split up to curl up into sleep; Ages by himself and Elijah slept very close to Jonathan. The brothers regarded each other for a moment, then they dozed off in hopes of a brighter day.

Although the sewer rats hadn't followed them, the three mice weren't alone.

Out of another corner, a big gray rat sniffed the ground probing for the scent of food—and for potential danger. Among the various stands, there were to be scraps of fruit, vegetable, and grains that were supposed to be around. So far, the trails he found didn't seem to bear much fruit for his labor: the stands had been meticulously cleaned up, the pavement was scrubbed clean, and there was something else too.

The rat stopped sniffing and stood up.

"What?" A voice behind him called. "What is it?"

The rat turned to face his companion. His fur was a darker shade of gray, and he had a broader, more stockier build than the first rat. "That's strange, they never cleaned up the square after dark," he frowned. "There should be scraps of food everywhere."

Now the other rat frowned too. "Hmm, they must be on to us, Nicodemus. Typical humans; and they have the nerve to call _us_ hoarders!" He snorted contemptuously.

Nicodemus gave a disapproving look. He, like his ancestors before him, lived in close proximity of human civilization, and thus understood the rules of survival in the city. "We have no right to decide what our place in this world is, Jenner. Why I'd rather be a human than a rat myself. But that's an impossibility, we have to stay to the shadows and out of trouble."

Jenner shook his head and brushed past him. He scanned the darkness for any sign of something edible, something of substance. What he saw and smelled turned up nothing worth his time and effort. Jenner then slinked off to expand his search.

Nicodemus studied his friend as he pushed deeper into the square, troubled as he saw that familiar, hunger glint in Jenner's eye. Although he and Jenner were friends, their approaches on sources of food and survival took very opposite paths. Nicodemus often preferred to take whatever they could that was enough for their colony. Jenner, on the other hand, wasn't satisfied with _just enough_. If anything, Nicodemus feared that Jenner despised being a rat and wanted to have a life far greater.

Suddenly, Nicodemus realized he was holding his breath. He had smelled three exhausted mice nearby, and if he knew Jenner, then the mice would be torn up and their carcasses would be taken back for their clan to eat. As Jenner's head turned to face the mice, his nose twitched and turned in a new direction.

"Nicodemus! Look! Look at that!"

At the far end of the square was just what they were looking for: a pile of fruit and vegetable bits, pieces, and scraps lost in the exchange of human trade. Jenner was beaming. This pile was big enough for their clan to eat for almost a week!

Nicodemus had to admit the sight and aroma of the soon to be meal was promising. But then, he tilted his head in puzzlement. What was that pile doing there? Was it the reason why they couldn't find all the scraps of food around the square? If so, why was it there so far away from where they were?

Unfortunately, before Nicodemus could even weigh the costs of stealing from this pile to his friend, Jenner made a series of clicks and squeaks toward the spot where they start. Then one, two, five, then eighteen pairs of ears and beady ears popped out of their hiding places. Jenner wildly gesticulated toward the pile.

Then, as one, the rats bounded with Jenner to satisfy their appetites. Small as they were, they needed a lot of food and energy to keep going. They chirped and squeaked in delight of Jenner's discovery.

Nicodemus tried to step in the mad rush and stop them, "Wait! Something isn't right here! Benjamin! Dan! Reuben! Sully! Wait! Listen to me!"

But the promise of being fed overrode any chance of them listening to Nicodemus. As they reached the food pile, they oohed at the immensity of it. Many of them asked Jenner how he was able to find it. Jenner only encouraged them to eat. They rubbed their paws together and prepared to dine. Behind them, Nicodemus gave a frustrated sigh and rushed toward them.

"Listen to me! This is far too convenient for all that to be found here! Something isn't right!"

All heads turned to look at him.

"What?"

"What are you saying? What do you mean 'something's not right?'"

"You think the food's been poisoned or something?" One of the rats stepped nervously away.

Jenner only scoffed. "He's just jealous because I found it first, and that this will last us for days. Now dig in! What's to lose?"

Some of the rats began to agree with Jenner and dove their snouts into the pile. Everybody else, however, wouldn't eat. They wanted to hear what Nicodemus was worried about.

"So what do you think is wrong, Nicodemus?" Dan asked.

"I couldn't smell any food anywhere else, the square has been scrubbed clean! Something tells me that the humans _want_ us to come here. I don't know why, but I know that this isn't a good idea to—"

"Oh, shut it, Nic," Jenner waved a dismissive gesture. "What's going to happen?"

He got his answer soon enough.

A pair of bright headlights ignited, casting the twenty rats in deep relief. Beside those lights, humans in working clothes shone their flashlights upon the rats. Animal and man stared at each other for a moment before two of them rushed them with a net and pole-like grabbers.

Nicodemus managed to yell out: "It's a trap!"

Elijah could barely sleep. As much as he wanted to sleep, the sensation of hunger was even stronger than his exhaustion. Even the near-death experience with the rats gashing their teeth at him, the memory of fruits, nuts, and roots was even stronger. Elijah moaned just thinking about it. He wanted to eat it again not soon, but now.

He rose with a groan, rubbing his still shut eyes from a few hours of sleep. For a moment, Elijah wondered if he was still asleep as the aroma of the vegetable and fruit scraps over the week wafted into his nose. He blinked when the smell didn't go away. Then he sniffed experimentally to make sure. Sure enough, the little mouse's mouth watered, and Elijah knew that it had to be real. Real and it was delicious!

A small gurgle in his stomach urged him to follow the scent, to take in whatever produced those wonderful flavors and satisfy himself. And he almost did.

But he hadn't taken but over a foot away when he remembered Ages' words about smelling and hearing for any threat. The experience of the rats in the sewers was still fresh in his mind, so he decided to take heed and watch out for danger.

Elijah listened: there were the sounds of chirping of crickets, the buzz of some street lights, the occasional rumbling of cars on the roads, and all except for a wrapper blowing in the wind, it was all quiet. As for his sense of smell, there were the usual smells of the city, the enticing aroma of vegetable scraps, and lastly, a kind of freshly clean fragrance around the square.

This made him curious. He'd never smelled it before and had no idea what to make of it. So he decided to wake up Jonathan and Ages. Elijah shook them, tugged their arms, even nipped Jonathan a little on the ear.

Jonathan cried out, "Ouch!"

This woke Ages up too. "Wh-what? What is it?"

Elijah explained to them about the food he smelled and the other strange smell. Ages scolded the youngster, "You woke us up because you were hungry?!" As he started to rant about Elijah's ungrateful attitude for bringing him food that he wasn't fond of, Jonathan smelled the air.

He said thoughtfully, "Whatever it is, I'm guessing the humans getting tired of us scrounging around for food—and I am too—they've probably gathered all the scraps so they can keep us out of the square, and that smell is just their way of cleaning up the square. The smell's fresh, so it must have been while we were below ground.

"And besides," he added, turning to Elijah. "We may need the energy for tomorrow when Slade comes back. It's going to be a long trip home, and I want get out of this place as soon as possible for good and back to safety on the farm."

Ages opened his mouth to argue, stopped and thought better of it. With a sigh, Ages conceded, "We should have something to rejuvenate us until morning. By then, I expect _that_ truck to get here and for you to go home."

Wearily, the elder mice staggered in Elijah's wake. Though he too was tired, Elijah was excited for a chance eat something decent before headed home. Before long, they found the mountain of food: lettuce, tomato, and carrot skins and stems piled as high as half a man. The two elder mice's mouths were soon watering, their fatigue forgotten.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's dig in!" Jonathan's eagerness was matched by his little brother's own.

Suddenly, his and Ages' ears pricked up upon hearing something scurrying. They looked around to find the source of the disturbance. But they couldn't make out anything amidst the shadows and dark shapes of boxes and rubbish. Jonathan edged toward Elijah hoping to get between him and whatever was out there.

Just then, a can clanged, and this time, Jonathan did see something. A dark shape scurried off behind something even darker for cover.

"Stay behind me," Jonathan hissed. Elijah nodded, not daring to say a word.

The older mice sniffed the air. There were twenty rats; all of them were headed their way. The rats must have picked up on the food too. Elijah whimpered softly. If the rats found them here and now, they would be killed.

But somebody whispered, "Psst!"

The trio jumped and turned to face the sound. "Who's there?" Jonathan hissed back.

"Get over here, around the pile," the voice answered. "They won't bother with us as long as we stay out of the way."

Ages shook his head doubtfully. Soon enough, though, the sound of the approaching rats changed his mind to trust the mystery creature and follow Elijah and Jonathan around the pile to hide. Ages panted from terror and exhaustion. Then when he regained his wits, he realized who their "friend" was.

Out of the shadows, a dark-gray mouse stepped up to them accompanied by seven more mice."Are you alright?" The mouse asked.

Jonathan answered, "Yeah, but who are you?"

"Matthew," the mouse whispered. He gestured to two of his companions. "These are my brothers, Philip and Thaddeus." Thaddeus waved at the trio. He was a rather large, rotund mouse. Matthew introduced them to the others: Peter, Bartholomew, Paul, a reddish-brown mouse called James, and a meaning-looking mouse called Simon.

"You're lucky to be in our company," James said brightly, but was shushed quickly. "I'm amazed those rats haven't noticed us yet. Oh, well, I suppose if there's enough for everybody, no quarrels then."

Ages frowned. "What do you mean 'enough for everybody?'" His eyebrow was raised in suspicion.

Paul explained. "This pile could feed at least 50 mice for a week. Imagine how much that would be mean to a rat!"

"Or twenty," Simon hissed. "Let's just eat what we can and get out of here." He turned a baleful eye on the odd mice. "And you—you'd better stay out the way if you know what's good for you."

Ages was livid as Simon turned away toward the foodstock. More than anything, he wanted to show that mouse a thing or two, teach him a lesson. But Jonathan and Philip held him back. "Never mind him," Philip said. "I don't care for his attitude either."

At first, Ages grumbled about it. But after Elijah pulled him toward the pile, his attitude lightened up. All eleven mice snatched up every bit they could, gnawing at the pieces hungrily. Even Elijah's appetite seemed insatiable that Jonathan tried to get him to slow down. Then he joined into the feast. In hours, the immense pile would be leveled to the ground, he estimated.

CRACK!

It came as a surprise on both sides of the pile as a pair of headlights cast upon the rodents. They raised their arms to shield their sight from the intense beams. Six to seven humans surrounded a white van surveyed the animals as two of them charged with a net toward them.

Behind the mice, somebody shouted: "It's a trap!" On pure reflex, the mice began to scatter. Jonathan made for Elijah and scooped him up.

But the men were faster and dropped the net, entangling all the mice at once. When they started to struggle, every one of them felt a swift but almost painful jolt from the net's cords, something they never expected. None of them realized that it was set to the lowest setting; it was made by a species that designed it to stun and capture large groups of small animals their size.

The rats fled into as fast as they could into an alley, but they too met the same fate. Once the net was upon them, the electric current stabbed into their neural cords with enough volts to incapacitate them without killing them.

Despite the pain, Elijah was still barely conscious. His efforts to try and stand were feeble as he collapsed back to the pavement. Blackness was flooding his vision now. Above him, a figure in clattering white armor approached. Its helmet had a black T-shaped visor and a near vertical frown.

Nobody could see beyond the visor as the figure bent over to examine them. Elijah's terror gave him the adrenaline to stay awake a few more seconds before he passed out. But even as his vision went dark, he heard the figure say in a muffled tinny voice: "They'll be alright. Inform the colonel we've got the test subjects."


	4. Chapter III: Palpatine's Arrival

**Chapter III**

 **PALPATINE'S ARRIVAL**

The black uniformed sergeant clasped his hands behind his back as he stepped toward Kendal and Sami in a dignified military posture. At his side was his command of five security troopers, each wearing the black uniform of the Republic Marine Corps and wide swooping helmets harkening back to the days of the Jedi Civil War. Even the man's military discipline could not hide the disappointment that etched his expression.

"There's no one here, sir," he said.

Now Kendal frowned too. "Nobody at all?"

"No sir. We've searched all decks top to bottom, every compartment and bulkhead three _times_ now," there was a note of exasperation in his voice. "But we couldn't find anybody out of the ordinary."

The chief of security shook his head with dismay and irritation. All of their efforts had turned up nothing. Nothing at all.

It had been fourteen standard hours since the first hint of warning from Kendal was relayed to his station. The chief wasted no time in organizing security details of Republic Navy and clone troops to sweep the ship and find the unauthorized Jedi. The first order of business was to lockdown all vital material and personnel bound for the laboratory base, so security in the hangar bay and cargo storage areas where increased. All the scientists were ordered to remain in their quarters until further notice.

Although the first sweep was complete within two hours, the Supreme Chancellor wasn't satisfied and ordered a second sweep, The chief advised that the _Prosperity_ would be emerging from hyperspace within another half hour and that the transports should be ready for launch by then. Simple as that, he was dismissed, and the communications crew had to send a coded transmission informing Colonel Khorrus of the stowaway Jedi and their lockdown delay. Khorrus _was_ furious and ranted on about how it upset _his_ arrangements with the capacitors for the energy-matter tunnels having to recharge within 24 hours as well waiting for a darker hour to offload the cargo, all upsetting _his_ arrangements.

Nevertheless, the hunt continued for another four hours as fruitful as the first time. Then a _third_ sweep was order leading it up to eight hours. Now, here was the chief exhausted with sweat pouring from his brow and profusely all over his body. He was also dehydrated too, and a meal to go with a Corellian ale would do too. If the Chancellor had to order a _fourth_ sweep—

But the chief let out a huge sigh of exasperation. "It's no good, master Jedi. I've exhausted every resource I have trying to find this Jedi, and I am too."

Kendal bowed his head in sympathy. "We all are. We'll have to inform the Supreme Chancellor and call off the search. In the meantime, our shuttles should have their holds loaded by now and ready to launch within eight hour's time."

Sami, however, felt there was something else they had overlooked. "But Master, if the rogue Jedi—or whatever it is—is still aboard, shouldn't we have escorts for the cargo?"

The chief nodded in agreement. "There will be. But right now, we've got to rest before we can do anything else." He turned to the sergeant. "Send a message to security to call off the search, ready any man still fit and able to move. If he becomes too exhausted on escort duty, send anybody else to relieve him."

"Aye, aye, sir," the sergeant saluted half-heartedly, then staggered off toward the hangar bay exit.

* * *

 _What a strange turn of events this has been,_ Neleh Katana murmured silently to herself.

Slipping out of a junction just as a patrol passed her by, she made her way towards the hangar bay. Whatever happened to her, she had to be careful now least any careless crewman crush her.

Neleh did not fully understand what this bidding of the Force meant to take her into the hangar bay, wait for a ship to be loaded, then board it to reach the planet's surface. As a matter of fact, she didn't even fully comprehend why she had to go to this planet in the first place, or this whole escapade came about for her.

It all began almost two months before the Clone Wars broke out. If she had been in Yoda's place in Palpatine's office days before the conflict began, she would claim to have seen everything.

Neleh saw what all the Jedi with all their power could not: the chain of events to lead up to the war, the battles and every combatant's fate, and most importantly _who_ was behind the war and its purpose. Several of the Jedi she befriended over her fifty-seven years would die in this conflict, and many would die to the Sith's treachery.

Had she been there, and voiced this, she would be laughed at and scorned. Or worse, she could have been arrested, and quietly executed on the Chancellor's orders.

In this session of meditation upon seeing these horrible things, she had heard something else. It was a voice, possibly the will of the Force instructing her. As a Padawan, she had been instructed to quiet her mind, to open it and her senses to the midi chlorians so that they could "speak" to her.

And she had heard; a voice, yet not quite a voice.

It said to her, _What you have seen of this great conflict ahead is the doom of the Jedi. War and violence feed the Dark Side, adding to the dark cloud that have blinded the Jedi's vision—that threatens to smother the universe in its evil. Do not join in this conflict, no matter what the other Jedi tell you, or you will suffer their fate._

 _The fall of the Order is inevitable, nothing can be done to halt it. But even when they_ seem _to die out, they can and_ will _return, just as the Sith did under your very noses._

 _Your path is that of the scholar and the teacher. Your destiny is to replant the seeds of the Jedi somewhere where the Dark Side will not choke them out._

Neleh saw the world; the blue-green gem with yellow deserts and white-brown mountains. This world wasn't as strong in the Force as the ones she had visited in her life as a Jedi, but Neleh could see it was far, far away from the galaxy even if she didn't understand how.

 _This world teems with life as beautiful and wonderful as many you have gone to. For many races in the galaxy, they were born from that world and were brought here. Some came by force, others by their own free will. Your kind came from this world, Neleh Katana, and here is where you must return._

 _Palpatine, the man for the evil he is about to unleash, plans to use this world his purposes. He wishes to extend the lives of others so that he extend his forever. But you must not let this happen. You must rescue those others of your kind from this fate and nurture them in the ways of the Force._

The voice had then instructed her to gather whatever knowledge she could from the Jedi Archives. Galactic topography, politics, xenobiology, culture, and engineering was next to nothing for her purpose. Neleh's instructions were to gather teaching materials about the techniques in the Force that needed extensive study, Jedi philosophy and history, holocron construction and recording, and strangely enough, the construction of the various lightsaber designs ever known.

Even now, Neleh was stunned that she had not yet reached the Dark Lord's senses, especially given his power. However, given her friendship with Qui-Gon when they were Padawans and taking in some of his ideals for her own—ideals that had seen darkness, darkness within herself she fully acknowledged—not to mention her kind's uncanny ability to remain hidden for a long time, even in the Force, the Jedi Master could see how she escaped Palpatine's scrutiny.

Finally, after three months of gathering the information and storing them into holocrons, she then smuggled herself aboard a cargo shuttle bound for Telos. For a mouse the size of a human and the Force on her side, she managed quite well to slip in with the many crates stacked with the ship and out again onto the _Prosperity_ before liftoff.

It took her sometime for to familiarize herself with the ship's layout before prowling around for three weeks without being detected. Looking upon seeing the schematics, Neleh thought was such a perfect irony. A fleet of _Dreadnaught_ -class cruisers, named in her honor after resolving a massive struggle in the Silurian system, had disappeared. Now she was about to disappear with this ship too.

Suddenly, just fourteen hours ago, Neleh felt a surge in the Force flow through her and the world around her became enormous. No, it wasn't the world around her that had gotten bigger. The ship was the same size and mass, and so had everyone else.

Then Neleh remembered what she had heard from her vision three months ago, about mice originating from that planet. Mice without the Force were small, tiny, and almost helpless except for their wits, their numbers, and their ability to regain those lost numbers with more. _She_ had shrunk to the size of an ordinary mouse.

But nothing else, save for her robes and lightsaber becoming just as small, changed for Neleh. Her knowledge and power in the Force remained, and she used that power to evade the clones and Republic troops that searched for her. At first, Neleh thought this new size would be a hinderance until she managed to squeeze through unsealed bulkheads, maintenance conduits, and ventilation shafts where no human could reach her.

 _Perhaps_ , she mused, _this could be more beneficial than harmful. Perhaps the saying about the smallest of beings toppling giants may be true after all._ Now, here she was behind a stack of crates watching the chief of security calling off the search and arranging for escort for the cargo she had stowed away with in the first place.

Neleh permitted herself a faint smile. She had managed to pull through their hunt and remained undiscovered. A fortunate turn of events indeed!

However, Neleh remembered that getting onto the ship and avoiding detection had only been the easy part. It wasn't the guards that worried her; she could slip by them to board a ship easily. No, it was Palpatine that Neleh feared. While she had used the Force to mask her presence aboard the _Prosperity_ , Neleh would be easy to sense when she disembarked.

One question, one problem faced her now: how to get to where she would be going without being noticed by the Dark Lord?

As she watched the cargo sleds hovering toward the transports, escorted by clone troopers, every few hours or so, Neleh decided on her course of action: patience. Although she could not sense it, her basest instincts told her that it wasn't time yet. But then, she couldn't afford to wait too long either, for that would mean failure for her bizarre quest.

This was the double edge of patience, knowing when precisely to make that critical move. Move too early, and everything falls apart; move too late, and everything cannot be changed.

* * *

Khorrus stood in the conference room with three other scientists. These were _not_ the scientists he had hoped would arrive. These humans were from the country the base was set up in; and such, Khorrus had to wear the uniform of a United States Army Colonel to avert suspicion.

Then again, the delay hadn't been entirely detrimental. Two of these scientists were college students, and one of them, George, had had trouble with some of the security protocols. He had been fortunate that security hadn't shot him thanks to the more senior man, Dr. Schultz, who had managed to provide him with the instructions to use the ID he received in the mail.

Now that security, a Republic Navy trooper disguised as an American soldier, was in place inside and outside, Khorrus cleared his throat and began his well prepared lecture to the three scientists.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are on the brink what could potentially be the greatest scientific community of the world, perhaps even the universe itself. Despite being in the company of warriors, men who would shed blood in the service of our country, what we are about to undertake may be the key to eternal life itself."

Dr. Schultz's eyes widened as the colonel paused impressively. The college-aged students stared at one another in matching disbelief. They were brought in here from their lectures, at Dr. Schultz's recommendation—and dropping out of their curriculums upon hearing the large sums of money involved to participate—for this?

Before any one of could even open their mouths to object, Khorrus continued, "Such a claim may be rather… extreme to say the least. No, we may not see people live forever in our lifetime, as exciting as it sounds. But this experiment will be one of many steps to assure that prospect.

"Our goal here today will be increase the rate of regeneration of living cells in a body. Of course, the military applications are obvious," he noted with a hint of sarcasm, "Soldiers being sent out into the battlefield would recover from wounds far quicker than an ordinary man could, potentially making him invincible.

"But there is a far greater means to achieve. Imagine, the most incurable diseases: polio, multiple sclerosis, rheumatism, Alzheimer's disease—yes! Even cancer!—could be treated, even eradicated from modern medical books! Immunity systems could be improved significantly, memory and neurological connections strengthened, even the human body could become even stronger by this project: New Blood for the future!"

Khorrus allowed the scientists to mutter incomprehensibly about it. His speech had won these simpletons over. Then again, what did he expect? He then mentioned the economic benefits: redistribution of wealth toward better housing and education. With this new gift of life and health, people would finally decide to set aside their differences and eventually fund new space programs to take them out into the stars, beyond their homeworld.

Of course, Khorrus personally observed, the pay rate for these would seem extremely minimum in the galactic economy back home; a credit chip would be worth several thousands here, if not millions. The _real_ scientists would receive a hefty sum of money if the project succeeded.

"However," Khorrus warned, "because of what this experiment may deliver, it is not wise to disclose it to the public until we have made sure of its success. From what history has taught us, men like Qin-Shi Huang Di had made rather destructive moves in their quest for power and immortality. As a result, word of this project is not, repeat, _not_ to leak out. Utter secrecy is to be maintained: that means you cannot tell your friends or family regarding this with your lives, with you and anybody you disclose with anybody else."

That did the job of getting everybody to comprehend the gravity of their situation; their faces sobered up upon hearing the possibility of being silenced forever as well as any acquaintances with them.

"Now, any questions?" Khorrus' tone belied any hint of threat. He scanned the scientists' expressions. "No? Good. You will be shown out the way you came in, and you will be given work schedules. Delays are not tolerable."

* * *

Neleh grimaced as she watched the last of the escorts arriving to load the second-to-last ship for drop off. It wasn't her patience that was running thin; she could have waited until the last crate for the last ship was loaded before making her move. No, what frustrated her was either taking the reasonable course of action over what her feelings told her to go.

Logically, she should board the last cargo ship after this one, to reach her destination as soon as possible. But there was an intuitive sense that told her that the time wasn't it yet, nor was this place. Neleh couldn't call upon the Force for guidance, lest she attract Palpatine's attention which only fueled her silent exasperation.

Luckily, she recognized the growing tension in her and began the Jedi calming techniques her master taught her over thirty-five years ago: she took slow breaths, in and out. In and out. Yes, the taut wires of her negative emotions slackened; she allowed her mind to merge with the Force anonymously, letting it wash away her agonies of her indecision.

This was where a Jedi was at his or her strongest in the Force; to allow oneself to be calm, at peace. The mind is free, open to the possibilities presented by the Force. It was then that Neleh unconsciously remembered something her master often told her about: " _The Force can guide you in strange and mysterious ways, Neleh. Don't be afraid of where it leads you. Soon enough, you will discover the answers it meant for you to find._

A wry smile crossed her face. No doubt that she would find out where it was she was meant to go on this planet, to find those "of her kind" and rescue them.

She wondered where she would go to find her way when a loudspeaker announced: "Attention, Shuttle 679 is prepared for takeoff. All designated personnel, please report to the hangar area at 0535 hours. Repeat, Shuttle 679 will take off at 0535 hours; anybody bound for Omega Base, please report to the forward docking bay."

The forward docking bay! That was it! Her instincts told her that was where she needed to go.

But her logical senses blared warning alarms against that course of action. If Palpatine was aboard this ship, he wasn't here for a pleasure cruise. Despite the top secret nature of the base, and the fact he was Commander-in-Chief for the Republic meaning he should be directing the war—manipulating it on both sides, actually—the Supreme Chancellor was here for an inspection tour. He would find her aboard her ship, and he would most certainly kill her.

Neleh felt herself torn again before she quieted her thoughts and weighed the alternatives. If she stayed here, it would mean dereliction to her duty to the Force; yet her path would cross with the Dark Lord of the Sith's. Palpatine—Darth Sidious—was extraordinarily powerful, given his ability to cloud the Jedi's vision, as well as convincing the Senate's supermajority to side with him.

Yet, she reflected, her vision had not suffered at all. _She_ had seen the future, and so she knew what the Jedi were getting themselves into. Perhaps if Sidious' evil couldn't touch her, so long as she remained out sight, Neleh might be able to slip under the Sith's nose and roam the world wherever the Force called her. This course of action seemed reasonable enough: she managed to avoid ship's security thanks to her new size, so why not do the same with the Sith? Whether the surge in the Force was by accident or design, Neleh was sure now that the Jedi would not be about to sense her too.

But she would have to move fast, though. It wouldn't take long for the men to arrive at the shuttle. Right now, one of the transports Neleh spied upon was taking off, headed toward a patch of dark gray on the nightside.

Her choice was simple: wait a little longer to board this shuttle once it was loaded, or act now to run to the forward docking bay and risk being detected along the way.

But for Neleh, there was no choice. The Force had called her to planet, and she wasn't about to let the Sith stop her now.

She ran. Ran as fast as she could.

Although capable of quadrupedal locomotion, Neleh dashed toward the forward bay as she had all of her life on her own two feet. But she was no fool either. More often than not, Neleh took cover behind the landing gears of V-19 Torrent fighters awaiting launch for escort; then behind the fighters that had just returned for refueling. Her next refuge took her alongside several crates.

Soon enough, she reached the door to take into the corridor to the forward bay. But this time, logic dictated her actions, and Neleh stood aside and waited as the door whooshed open. As expected, several crewmen walked through the open hatchway. Neleh wasted no time and leapt inside before it closed.

Running parallel across the corridor's floor, Neleh scanned for a ventilation grill. If she could slip in, she could reach the forward bay quickly and quietly. Her efforts paid off as she spotted it off to her right.

Suddenly, her ears picked up a clone trooper squad approaching, and dove into an alcove. Precious seconds seeped away as the troopers passed her by. Once they were out of earshot, Neleh ignited her lightsaber and cut a circular hole in the grate—she couldn't risk using the Force and letting the Dark Lord sense her. Neleh got into the vent, then welded the grate back together. By the time anybody discovered the anomaly in the gate, she would be long gone.

Twisting and turning her body through the vent, bounding over the gaps when coming upon them, Neleh began to pant and sweat. The bay was nearly close now! It had to be!

At last, ahead of her was the grate that lead to the forward bay. Neleh was just in time as she watched the party of scientists, the clones and the Jedi, and the Chancellor approach the ship on the far side.

When they were halfway there, Neleh cut another circular hole in the grate. Instead of pushing it outward, she ignored the intense heat from the glowing edges of the bars and pulled it in. Neleh dropped all the way down from a height of six meters, allowing the Force to cushion her fall.

As expected, the Chancellor paused, looked in her direction. All he saw were supply crates and workers. For a moment, Palpatine considered trying to use the Force to probe the area, as his Force senses could not pick up anything. But he dismissed that approach in the company of the Jedi.

Instead, he touched the mind of one of the workers, convincing him to check the cargo for something that could be damaging or for any unusual "lifeforms" that may have stowed away in the manifest.

The man went to check on the spot where believed the trouble to be, but after a quick inspection of the crates, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The worker breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a false alarm.

* * *

Neleh breathed a sigh of relief underneath the seat where she was hiding.

It had been a risky move to use the Force to cushion the fall, but she moved fast enough to scurry away from where she landed before the worker could find her there. The moment he wasn't looking her way, Neleh leapt over the crates and right up the shuttle's ramp as it closed.

 _Once again, the irony has thickened._ Neleh shook her head. The seat she hid under was Palpatine's, the man she desperately tried to avoid.

But it mattered not. Neleh had made it aboard; Palpatine could not sense her now, and neither could the Jedi. Now, at last, the journey planetside was about to begin; there were five scientists including the Kaminoan, the two Jedi, two clones, an Intelligence officer, and at least nine maintenance techs.

The pilot in the cockpit announced: "Hold on to your afterburners. We're going in hot, and we're going to have to keep it quiet. We don't want anybody to know that any of us are here. So I advise you keep your lips sealed until we're inside."

For Neleh, this was no problem. Given that she rarely spoke up as a Padawan, she could keep quiet until then.

Allowing herself to merge her consciousness with the Force, Neleh felt the ship's thrusters test firing before engaging the repulsorlifts. By then, the cargo ship had already departed and was en route to its mysterious destination. Upon the shuttle clearing the bay, two V-19 zoomed alongside it for escort.

Several kilometers from the planet, the pilot switched on his comlink. "Command station, this is ST-679; code clearance: red. We are starting planetary approach, deactivate the security shield and engage the energy-matter tunnel."

A crack of static burst through the open channel before the receiver replied, "Acknowledged. The security deflector shield will be deactivated when we have confirmation of your code transmission. Stand by."

Seconds went by. The viewport outside grew dark and gray, leading to the pilot to flick a number switches turning on floodlights ahead. Code scramblers buzzed, whirred and beeped on the other side of the comlink.

The pilot drew in a sharp breath. His palms grew sweaty from impatience; if he didn't get clearance now, they would have to break off and wait again for the weather satellites to charge back up.

But the communication officer on the other announced. "Code clearance accepted. You are clear to proceed."

Outside the ship, Neleh perceived it accelerating towards the planet's surface with the V-19s in tow. She felt the Kaminoan apprentice gasp as they approached the ocean's surface. Suddenly the shuttle slowed, and the fighters broke off their escort to return to the _Prosperity_. The engines wound down to zero acceleration leaving only the repulsors to keep the ship hovering over the raging surface of the ocean.

The mouse Jedi frowned. What was happening now? Why had they stopped here?

Her answer came as a surprise as the ship began to lower itself toward the water. But they never sank. Instead, Neleh perceived a whirlpool some sixty to seventy meters across, wide enough to engulf the ship, and they were headed into it. At the base of the artificially induced whirlpool, the water seemed to part by itself. No, not by itself. The water was rushing around an invisible cylinder of particle shielding generated from an underwater cliff some two kilometers away.

Everybody gasped, save for Palpatine who just nodded. Even Neleh's mouth gaped upon realizing what she had gotten herself into. The engineering and technology required to conceal themselves from the world above was inconceivable. What they were planning here Neleh had no idea.

As the shuttle advanced toward the cliff, another surprise greeted the passengers as it split open to reveal an entrance to a cavern beyond it. Just inside the opening were several laser cannon emplacements to discourage intruders. The shuttle eased itself into the tunnel.

Every so often, there were support beams and structures that were dead giveaways of the Republic's presence here. But they were accompanied by point laser defenses ready to vaporize any spies or saboteurs. Scanning stations generating high-powered scanner beams could pick up any unidentified lifeform or lethal devices a smuggler would be stupid enough to stow aboard.

Neleh wasted no time in placing herself into a state of Force hibernation to avoid detection; her breathing stopped, and nearly all but her most vital lifesigns in her body began to stop and shut down. Once again, her battle was of patience: all she had to do was wait it out.

* * *

Khorrus marched toward the main landing bay before the alarms went off. He cursed the idiot who had set off the alarm aboard the _Prosperity_ about the alleged Jedi stowaway. As if things weren't difficult enough around here with the construction and maintenance teams, the supply ships were lucky to come down to the planet's surface under cover of darkness every hour or so for six hours straight.

Khorrus did not trust his subordinates to coordinate the operation, so this whole thing cost him a night's worth of sleep. And now, he was about to present himself to the Supreme Chancellor with bags under his eyes and a yawn every several minutes for an inspection tour! Even the delivery of the test subjects on the planet and the briefing of the scientists this afternoon hadn't improved his mood.

Grumbling and yawning all the way, the doors to the landing bay hissed open before Khorrus revealing two squads of clone troops, workers and several officers lined up in parallel military parade formation as the shuttle floated toward its landing area. Its wings had folded up upon entering the tunnel in preparations for setting down, and so carried out that operation.

The clones snapped to attention and turned 90 degrees facing one another. At least it was one perfect part of the completion ceremony, Khorrus thought bitterly. The colonel walked down the aisle of men and stood just before the shuttle, hands clasped behind his back. Another yawn attack hit him, but he recovered in time as the ramp lowered and the inspection procession stepped out onto the permacrete.

Khorrus bowed before them. "Welcome sirs, and especially to you, Supreme Chancellor, to Omega Base. I am very sorry if I'm rather unpresentable, but this was nothing I couldn't handle. This base, despite some _setbacks_ , has been completed and is operational on time." Upon announcing this, Khorrus beamed with pride.

Palpatine smiled genially. "Thank you, Colonel. I am delighted to hear these good news. I trust that our project is ready to commence and this facility is fully stocked?"

Khorrus went rigid at a loss for words, then recovered immediately. "Ah, actually, yes, your Excellency. I have received the specimens for testing just last night and sorted out the most suitable candidates for the experiment, sir. We shall begin very shortly now." He turned to the scientists. "And you are fully aware of what we are about to undergo, gentlemen?"

Tion straightened himself. "Of course, sir," he answered with an air of pompousness. "I'm sure that things will proceed swiftly, and that I will deliver the results to my classes as soon as possible."

"I too pray that the experiments proceed well, Colonel," Hai's silk voice chimed in. "Such success will benefit the galaxy greatly."

Tion and Khorrus gave her a reproving look, but Palpatine started to move up the aisle toward the facility's entrance. "Now then, Colonel, I presume you are not too terribly exhausted or unfit to give us a tour of this facility? I'm sure that these people will want to know where they will be working and _what_ they will be working with; we've had a long, long journey to get here, you know."

Khorrus was taken aback again; but eager to please the Chancellor, he obliged. "Of-of course, your Excellency! Right this way, please." He made a sweeping gesture toward the door, and led the company of scientists like a marching band through the facility.

* * *

Khorrus couldn't really explain it, but when he was in the company of the Chancellor, it seemed as if his fatigue was completely gone. Instead, a kind of eager fanaticism to impress the leader of the Republic was flooding through him. All the woes of dealing with some of the _less-than-competent_ workers were forgotten; now he would present the fruits of his labor like a man showing off his manor for tourists.

Khorrus showed the entourage of scientists and Jedi the administration level and center; then the laboratories where they would be working in; their sleeping quarters; and for the clones, the colonel showed them where they would be training the regular troops and clones for unexpected developments.

The inspection techs examined the structures, consoles, and electrical systems carefully. Everything checked out, and these reports reached Palpatine's ears soon enough.

Just as it seemed as if Khorrus was about to conclude the tour, Palpatine, with all of the patience honed and summoned throughout his entire life thus far, said to him, "I'm most pleased, Colonel, with your progress, and I'm confident that this experiment _will_ be a success. But before I am to leave, may I ask if I may inspect the test subjects personally?"

Regen frowned at him. "Sir, I cannot see why you would be interested in them at all. And besides, Khorrus assured us they were selected carefully—"

Palpatine lifted his palm dismissively. "Doctor, I appreciate your concern, but _I_ am here on inspection. It is _my_ duty to ensure that this facility completes its task, and that includes the welfare of the test subjects until the experiments run their course. Now then, Colonel?"

For a moment, Khorrus was stunned upon hearing this, but he said obediently, "Right away!"

However, the techs declined in following Khorrus, so the Chancellor dismissed them and permitted them to return to the ship. Then he led the rest of the inspection team toward the holding area for the test subjects.

Two clone troopers stood guard before the sealed armored door. One of them gave a warding off gesture to the inspection party. Then Khorrus stepped forward. "These are the scientists we were expecting, the Chancellor has requested to see the specimens and I have obliged."

The guards looked at each other, shrugged, and one of them said, "Move along," as he opened the doors to let them in.

* * *

Palpatine thought the room wasn't much to look at; it was sparely decorated with a polished floor and a work desk full of the usual scientific and analysis devices typical of this world. Adorning the wall on the right was a rack of tools. There was also an old fashioned tube-based monitor in the far right corner, along with a strange, transparent plastic cylinder of an unknown purpose.

But Palpatine's interest peaked upon seeing the animals encased behind shimmering red laser fields. They were very wise not to touch the fields, indeed, he mused. None of the were strong in the Force. Nevertheless, he could feel it within them, their life-forces; miniscule amounts to keep them alive for just a few brief years. As Khorrus rambled about their physiology and suitability for the experiment against similar rodents from their galaxy, the Supreme Chancellor allowed the echoes of the Force from these creatures to touch him, and he listened.

They were simple creatures; survival was their primary goal. Even if a number of them died, their offspring would live on to give birth to future generations. It had been this way for them for millennia, it would be this way until their species faced an obstacle that threatened them all. By then, they would have to sacrifice parts of themselves genetically, perhaps parts of their souls to live on—the way of evolution. But for those who failed this test were doomed to extinction.

Imperceptibly, Palpatine shook his head. When the experiments were complete, he would see no reason to carry on his legacy through offspring. Why bother procreate when you would have the power to live on forever? And besides, procreation was a rather messy process all together.

But within the swirling torrent of uncertainty and dread the test subjects pour out into the currents of the Force, his senses alerted him to the presence of anger. Anger, the second step to the Dark Side. Anger and hatred, yes, this was good.

What surprised the secret Sith Master was that it came from one of the creatures. But it mattered not. He had misjudged these creatures: with what modest intelligence they had for survival, the rats had possessed enough of it to feel, to experience emotion. The Jedi were fools to reject such emotions, not to embrace it and feel the full potency of the Force. Light and dark were meaningless labels; the Force had no limits, and therefore, only those who sought to understand it fully, to subject it to their whims.

 _Perhaps_ , the Dark Lord meditated, _this creature could serve me in the New Order yet. But first, he must learn submission before embracing the power._

But Palpatine did not make any move to seduce the enraged beast as he paced down the row of cages as if examining them—at least, not yet. He was still in the presence of the Jedi, and if he attempted to contact the rat just now, to use the Dark Side, it would expose the Sith Order's master and destroy all for which he had achieved and inflicted.

No, he decided, he would wait, pretend to converse with the others to evade suspicion. When they were finished, he would ask to remain here for a few more moments, to take in the potential of the experiment and the animals' sacrifices to achieve it. Naturally, it would raise eyebrows of several in the party, but it had to be done. There was no further opportunity. He would take it now, or lose it forever.

As Palpatine had prepared for this moment, he said, "This is truly an accomplishment worthy of galactic recognition: once the Separatists have been defeated, we shall unveil what we are about to do here over the years and use this knowledge for the betterment of the galaxy."

Khorrus did indeed raise an eyebrow, as did Sami. But Hai and Kendal smiled. "Well spoken, Your Excellency," Kendal lauded.

Karrdac cleared his throat. "Now that we've completed our tour, I believe it is time for the Supreme Chancellor to escorted home while we attend to our duties here. This laboratory will serve as our home for a number of years—"

"Years?" Sami couldn't believe what she heard.

"Due to the high risk nature of this project, we are to remain and oversee it to conclusion—like it or not," Karrdac added with a mutter.

As he had rehearsed mentally, Palpatine said, "Colonel, could you please see these gentlemen to their quarters? They've had a long journey and need rest. I will return to the shuttle soon, but first I wish to remain here for a short while."

Not surprisingly, the clones and Karrdac raised their eyebrows and stared at him. "Sir?"

"These creatures," Palpatine explained, "do not realize their importance, nor the sacrifice they will undergo for the good of the universe."

Kendal thought he had seen a tear go down his face. He bowed his head solemnly in sympathy. "As you wish, Supreme Chancellor." Then everybody but the Chancellor turned to leave.

And now, Palpatine was alone where he could do his dirty work.

He turned his attention back toward the fury-blinded creature. There was only one way to turn him to his will; if he communicated with it in a way it did not expect, the dark master could catch it off guard. And what he would communicate to the lowly thing would also cause it to doubt itself, making him susceptible to the Dark Side.

Palpatine faced the hateful rat and smiled. Instead of speaking, he sent this to its mind, _Hello there._

Suddenly, it went rigid, looking all around for the mystery voice. Palpatine listened through the Force as the rat thought, _What? What was that? Who said that?!_

 _I did,_ the Sith answered gently. _I sense that you have great fear, do not try to hide it from me,_ he chided as the rat snarled at him in response. Palpatine answered him without any hint of rage or annoyance. _You are afraid of being taken from your home, your friends, yes, your very life as you knew it. You were also afraid of being captured all your life, and now that you are captured, you fear for your survival; and as a consequence, you have become angry at the ones responsible for this, aren't you?_

Immediately, the rat shuddered. _How does he know this?_ Its mind echoed. _This_ human _feels my fear, my anger. Why?_

 _I possess a power that connects me to all living things. It is called the Force, and it is what allows me to speak into your mind, Jenner—yes, and it gives me the knowledge of who you are, what you have longed for so long._ Once again, the man showed his pity for the rodent, spreading his palms open. _You have suffered under the oppressive boot of humanity for as long as you have lived, haven't you?_

 _I have,_ Jenner replied, yet this thought seemed like static from a radio coming out of him. This led him to doubt if he could successfully communicate with this strange man. Was he even capable of commanding this _Force_ in him at all—if it really was connected to all things, why could _he_ not feel it.

But the man answered patiently, _You, Jenner, along with your fellow creatures were brought here for a purpose. I created this place to strengthen the Force within other living things, to make them live longer and make them stronger. You alone_ could _become far greater than anything that walks this very planet._

This astonished Jenner, just as Palpatine predicted he would. Now for the conditions of achieving the power he promised. Palpatine said telepathically, _Now, you will undergo a very painful procedure. But do not fear that it will take your life. Your fear and anger are strong enough, I have felt it in you. You must embrace these emotions at all times as I teach you to wield the Force around you, to command the Dark Side within you._

For any lesser being, they would have feared the very mention of the Dark Side more than anything in the universe. But Jenner was curious; curious about the Dark Side as Exar Kun had been, curious as the first Dark Lords of the Sith had been about this wonderful, glorious power.

 _The Dark Side,_ Jenner queried. _What is this Dark Side you speak of?_

 _It is your very nature, Jenner; your desire to stand in the light of day without fear, to overcome the very obstacles man has placed before you, to unleash your anger and hatred against your enemies and to emerge victorious._

Something blazed in the Dark Lord's eyes: a flame that lingered briefly, then faded just as quickly. _I understand your place, Jenner. I have a sworn enemy: the Jedi Knights. They drove me and my kind underground where we had to scrape a living just to survive. In fact, my people were driven to the very brink of extinction._

Jenner suddenly felt something resembling sympathy for the man before him. Humans couldn't reproduce as fast as rats, nor did they grow up as quickly, and this man of great power being prosecuted for his unspeakable powers; powers that he was willing to share with him. Now he felt an imperative to learn this power, to keep it from dying out. _Teach me,_ Jenner implored. _I want your power. With it, we can topple your enemies and punish them for their crimes._

A cruel smile formed on Palpatine's face. _Then you swear allegiance to me? To the Dark Side of the Force?_

Jenner hesitated briefly, then bowed his head. _I swear it. And I swear my allegiance to the teachings of the Dark Side._

 _Then, it is done. You will become one of the great ones, a Dark Lord of the Sith. And with this power, you shall rule the stars at my side. Now I am your master, the master of the Sith: Darth Sidious._

And with that, Jenner proclaimed gratefully, _Thank you, my master._

Sidious bowed his head. _Heed the instructions I will send to you. I must return to my home now. I will not be here to teach you, but you will take heed of my counsel. Use it to escape, to sway others strong enough and wise enough to listen. Until then, Jenner, farewell._

Then the Dark Lord turned to leave.

* * *

Neleh Katana's footfalls inside the ventilation shafts barely registered to the maintenance sensors, as did her presence in the realms of the physical world and the Force; all thanks to her Jedi suppression techniques.

The diminutive Jedi Master soon came to a stop for several hours, breathing hard and trying to lower her heart rate. Then, after a handful of deep, slow breaths, she felt came once more.

Neleh had made it, alive and unnoticed. Palpatine would never find her here, nor even consider it. But in case he knew that she had breached the base's security, the guards wouldn't have a chance to find her, at the risk of using poison gas to flush her out and suffering for it too.

Unfortunately, evading the Republic troops had been the easy part. Now, here she was in a vent shaft trapped on some Force-forsaken world and Neleh did not know where to go from here, or where to find "those others of her kind" from her vision. Without being able to call upon the Force, she wouldn't know where Palpatine was; and if she did, then he and the Jedi would find her and imprison her.

Neleh shook her head in frustration. What was she supposed to do now?

Nothing, she decided. Absolutely nothing but meditate, to regain her sense of direction, and wait for Palpatine to leave until she could plan her next move.

Not long after, the soothing waves of the Force began to flow over her; as a low tide at first. Soon, the tide grew higher and higher. Neleh did not retreat from it, but she welcomed it openly to calm herself and await for its counsel. Then, the Jedi mouse was enveloped into the ocean of the Force's energies.

Behind her closed eyes, Neleh could only see blackness; but soon enough, she began to see the stars of her galaxy twinkle into existence as she always saw them. The sight filled her with the sense of peace and serenity the Jedi always sought in their code.

However, as Neleh studied the patterns of the constellations, she realized how unfamiliar they actually were now. It baffled her why—

No, there is no _why_ , she scolded herself before resuming her meditation. Through this, she sought after knowledge, to gain insight into the beings she was looking for. Who were the mice, and where would they be found?

Now she began to see their faces; brown-furred, gray, white, reddish brown, all blank expressions at first glance. Their nearly black eyes gave little indication to their thoughts and emotions, leading Neleh to believe that they were rather simple minded—that they sought only for survival and nothing more.

Then, she looked into the eyes of a gray mouse and a very young brown mouse. Although the older mouse's expression resembled that of the other mice, she could discern something else; intelligence, compassion, nobility, and foolhardiness. The younger mouse was more easier to make out: friendly, honest, yet sad and scared.

 _This child is strong in the Force_ , the "voice of the Force" told her. _He will become a great Jedi Knight along with his adopted brother, Jonathan._

Those words delighted Neleh; now she knew who to look for. But then, she began to see more faces. They were longer, blunt faces. Their ears were the same shape, but smaller in proportion. She recognized them as rats as the Force whispered again, _Along with the mice you have seen, these too will need your guidance. Most of them know nothing of the Force, but they will know about it soon enough._

Suddenly, Neleh winced upon hearing a child scream. But she didn't just "hear" the scream, she felt it too. It was a cry of pain, and a call for help. It was as if something that had induced pain into the child's soul. It was soon joined by the older voices too, wailing in incomprehensible agony and terror. Neleh writhed with the voices, clutching her sides as she felt the fiery sensation of their suffering course through her body.

 _What—what is this?_ Neleh thought blankly as the screams grew louder.

Then she saw them; the faces of the mice and rats she saw before. All of them were grabbing at themselves as if trying to staunch a wound inflicted upon them, but there was no mark on their bodies.

Neleh had heard of screams in the Force in her studies, but they were supposed to be generated by the Dark Lords of the Sith or somebody very strong with the Dark Side. Or perhaps, their pain was a cause of the Dark Side, and the animals were just crying out for aid from this misery.

As if to confirm this theory, the child mouse's voice screamed, " _Jonathan! Somebody! Help me!"_ Then it trailed off into another shriek of pain.

Suddenly, the Jedi Master stood upright, slammed back against the wall of the vent, and watched helpless as she saw herself pulling back from the animals into the vent. She caught a brief glimpse of the room they were held in, before collapsing from the shock of the screams.

Neleh did not know when she revived, but knew it must have been hours since the traumatic event. Her head seared with lightning-bolt white fire from the screams' after effects. She tried to resist the urge to call upon the Force just to relieve the aches, but every afflicted fiber in her temples and forehead stung so hard that she relented to their demand for treatment. Slowly, Neleh summoned up small amounts of Force energy to soothe the sting.

As Neleh brought the pain to a controllable minimum, her senses told her that Palpatine was gone and the Jedi had not sensed her healing. She nevertheless felt small remnants it throughout all of her body, namely the back and lower abdominal sections. The rats and mice she sought had suffered from a terrible calamity in the Force, and it affected her too empathically.

 _Why?_ Neleh shook her head. _The Force wasn't strong in them, so why I did feel so much pain?_

Her studies had mentioned many things that could be detrimental for Jedi and his connection to the Force: ysalamiri that created a bubble negating the Force's presence, the terentatek and vornskrs that hunted for prey strong in the Force, the thought bomb which could destroy all strong in the Force in its radius—

And then she had her answer. The words of her first vision echoed in her memory: _Palpatine wishes to extend the lives of others so that he extend his forever. But you must rescue the others of your kind from this fate and nurture them in the ways of the Force._

Now Neleh understood what to do. Sidious was using laboratory mice in an experiment to find a solution to make him live—and reign—forever. Her empathy in the Force had been triggered by their pain, and now she could hear the poor animals moaning and crying out. Their presence in the Force had become stronger somehow.

Neleh listened, not with her ears, but through the Force for their suffering to lead her to them. She would heal them, teach them to become Jedi, and escape this dreaded prison once and for all. She dashed down the vent, using the last part of her recent vision inversely to guide the way.


	5. Chapter IV: The Experiments Begin

**Chapter IV**

 **THE EXPERIMENT BEGINS**

Elijah slowly began to stir from the shock net. Already, his body throbbed and ached everywhere from the lightning sting. He gave a small groan as he began to rise. Elijah blinked to clear his blurry vision. He didn't like what he saw.

And neither did the mice from the square.

They were surrounded by thin white bars, that they were also above and below the layer of sawdust under their feet. Thaddeus, despite his rotund build, managed to leap up onto the roof bars and tugged at them. James was also trying to wrench the bars open. "Gotta—get—outta here!" But his efforts were useless and both plopped back to the ground, sending up clouds of straw colored dust.

Elijah coughed from the dust, and shook himself off.

He looked around, and tried to see past the bars. There was very little to see, though the crowd of his cellmates. All he was able to see were dark gray walls on all sides—an extra layer of security it seemed. There were also at least fifty to sixty rats all locked up in cages just as he and the mice were. The rats murmured frightfully, terrified of the thought of being captured. Elijah sympathized with them; he was frightened as the rest of them.

"What's going on? What happened?" One of them said.

"Where are they taking us?"

"Why have they taken us? What have we done to deserve this?"

Then, in one of the cages a lean rat groaned as he revived from the shock along with a larger, burly rat. They shook themselves off and started to survey their settings with no success in finding an escape.

Suddenly, as they looked each other, they jumped. Clearly, they hadn't expected to see one another imprisoned aboard their new transport—Elijah had guessed it was some kind of vehicle as he feel the ground beneath him shift and turn.

"Jenner! You're alive!" the lean rat exclaimed. "I thought that you had gotten away."

"I would have thought the same for you, Nicodemus," Jenner answered sourly.

Elijah decided this was a good time to listen. Maybe these two would know what was going on, a voice inside him said.

"Where are we going?" Nicodemus asked.

"I don't know," came the irritated reply. "I'd tell you if I knew."

"Hey, anybody know what a lab is?" A young, brown rat inquired to the two. "I heard about it from somebody and—"

Jenner snarled at the speaker. "Mind your business, you—"

But Nicodemus ribbed Jenner and explained as best he could, "It's a laboratory, my friend; somewhere where humans test drugs upon animals from what I've heard."

The brown rat gave a shudder, which Elijah felt too. "Test on animals? That's horrible!" There was a pause, then the rat asked, "But why us? What have we done to deserve this?"

Elijah was hoping for an answer too when something tapped on his shoulder. "Elijah?"

The little mouse spun to face a welcome sight. "Jonathan!"

Both mice charged towards each other and embraced. Never had they felt so relieved as they were right there and then.

"I was worried, Jonathan!" The little mouse squeaked, and Jonathan held him tighter. "So was I," he answered.

* * *

For a long time, they held onto one another, not speaking, not even listening. There was nothing else they could do but wait and pray to see what would happen next, where they would go from here. Neither even noticed their cagemates shouting, panicking about their doom.

Despite this, everybody else in the cages chattered on their fears about their fate, what they could have done to bring this imprisonment upon themselves, and if they would survive the coming storm, whatever it might be.

At first, the journey hadn't been pleasant, with the vehicle twisting and turning on the city streets, squirming like a huge serpent. But shortly after, they found themselves accelerating, despite the lack of windows to see out of. A slight, banshee-like shriek filled the interior, adding to the gloom as they raced along the highway outside toward their destination.

Eventually, they began to slow down, and experienced another twisting ride. They were in another city, as these turns were not like the ones experienced before—it was also very unlikely that the human drivers would have gotten lost and had to go back to the city they started out from.

Less than half an hour later, they slowed to a brief stop, felt the vehicle swing around in the opposite direction, backed up slowly and finally stopped.

Elijah looked around expectantly, then back to Jonathan. He wanted to asked him what happened, why they stopped. The answer he got was that of a firm expression, one that told him he didn't know but would stay with him no matter what. A quick look around told them both that all the rodents were alarmed at the sudden stop.

Minutes passed, and the animals heard chattering outside the vehicle. But it was muffled and indiscernible, so they couldn't make out anything. This only served to feed the fear already hanging in the air, making it even stronger. For Jonathan and Elijah, it was just like boarding the truck back on the farm all over again.

Without warning, a harsh squeak came from one of the gray walls as it lifted up. The country mice winced at the sound, holding their ears to their heads. Everybody looked away as harsh lights flooded their gray holding chamber, with some holding up their paws to shield their faces.

Jonathan and Elijah squinted to see the source of their searing tormentor. The younger mouse gasped upon seeing more figures in white, but their clothing was looser, yet tight enough to act as a shield from contamination and infection. One man, however, wore a gray uniform with two squares—one red and the other blue—on the left side of his chest. Before them was the white armored figure Elijah had seen before blacking out; he was gesticulating to the cages inside.

"Our counts say we've got at least sixty to seventy of the bigger specimens," the armored man said.

One of the men in the hazard suits nodded, and the company moved in to pick up the cages. Outside were identical figures to the white armored man. They formed a semicircle outside the vehicle, and with whirring clicks raised medium length black objects to their shoulders.

"Easy," one of the hazard suited men urged. "They won't like being shaken up; we don't want them to be damaged."

 _Like these men would actually listen_ , the expression on Jonathan's face said. One of the armored men snorted, "What's gonna happen? They'll bite your fingers off if you do?" The other armored men laughed at this.

Elijah blinked and shook his head to clear it. "What?"

Was it his imagination, or had they sounded the same to the voice he heard before falling unconscious? The youngster had never heard of another like this in his life. Who or what were these men? Were they even men?

Jonathan, however, was more concerned for his brother's well being than pondering mysteries, so he got in front of him to shield the youngster.

"Jonathan, wait!" Elijah protested. "Let me see!"

But Jonathan didn't listen. And it turned out there was no need moments later, as they swayed back and forth inside the cage and were placed onto a trolley onto of other cages. Looking to where the hazard suit didn't block his view, Elijah saw the armored men held a loose perimeter around the handlers. As he turned to look at them and smell them, it only served to puzzle him further.

The handlers all had a different smell to them, despite their protective gear. The armored men, however, possessed a near identical smell. It sent a shiver down the small animal's spine: these men looked, sounded and smelled the same. Nothing in nature could exist like that; whatever they were, the armored men were a terrifying creation he thought was something beyond anything man on this earth could create.

Elijah squeaked fearfully, "Something's not right here. Who are they?"

But there was no answer. Even Jonathan, who had identified the look and smell of the armored men too, was terrified.

* * *

The next several hours turned out to be the most dreadful, most terrifying of Jonathan and Elijah's lives. First, they had to pass through two blue uniformed guards. One of them demanded, "Let me see your identification," and the leader of the hazard team produced a small card, and handed it to the guard. After a minute of inspection within a reader, he returned it.

"Move along," he waved them into a set of double doors. Instead of swinging open, they parted like a curtain with a hiss-whoosh. The pair jumped, but Elijah recovered first, surprisingly. He was taking Ages' advice as seriously as he could; he wanted out just as badly as the others.

Jonathan frowned as the group entered what appeared to be a dead end: another set of gray walls all around them. He wondered what the point of being taken to this room was when the doors hissed shut behind them.

The answer became apparent. A lurch downward, and the whine of servomotors told the animals that they were going down.

Down, but to where?

Jonathan wasn't sure he wanted to know. Already he was imagining horrible disfigurements of people as grotesque versions of mice, gophers, moles, and other creatures that dug into the earth for their homes. Mankind really was everywhere on the earth, above and below the ground.

Somehow, Elijah had that same feeling because he began to clutch Jonathan more tightly now. Jonathan held him with what comfort he could. "Shh, sh-sh, it's okay, Elijah. It's okay." But Jonathan didn't feel reassured himself.

A few minutes later, the doors slid open, and they moved out again. Beyond the lift, the animals were greeted by a series of whistling, chirping, beeping noises, multi-colored panels of light, and the strangest collection of men and machinery—as a matter of fact, some of the machines resembled shiny men; or barreled machines on tripodal set of legs with swiveling domed heads.

First, however, the handlers had to pass under an angular archway. They waited as a man in a black uniform with an open faced, backward sloping helmet swept some kind of remote up and down their bodies. Once he was done, he let them pass.

Their last obstacle was a stern-looking woman behind a semi circular desk awaiting them. "State your business," she said in a clipped tone.

The leader of the handlers answered, "These are the specimens, ma'am, for the independent variable regarding 'Project New Blood,'" He held up the cage to show her. "Request permission to send them for blood and tissue examinations."

The woman leaned over the desk to examine the "specimens." It wasn't very long, and it seemed that she had little interest for the animals. But to Elijah, her glare upon him was unbearable as he shook uncontrollably.

"Very well," the woman said stiffly. "Level 3, section Besh, analysis labs."

The handler nodded, then the relatively jerky ride started again. So did the stunned and panicked murmurs of the animals, which Elijah hadn't realized had halted upon exiting the lift—he was more worried about Ages, Jonathan and his own well being.

"What is this place?"

"What kind of lab is this?"

"What did she mean by 'Level 3, section Besh, analy-thingummy labs?'"

"Are we going to be dissected?"

"I heard of horrible diseases test rats get in labs!" A she-rat sobbed upon saying.

"What kind of machines are those?" The brown rat demanded, eyeing the rolling, tripodal barrel and human-like automatons.

But Elijah noted other kinds of the strange machines as they passed down the corridors: multi-armed thing on a treaded platform with a binocular sensor on a stalk, boxes on wheels chirping and squeaking like mice, a tall cylindrical machine with recessed limbs and "eyes" all around its head, a bipedal machine with a skull-like face with a tube sticking from its mouth, and even a floating, globe-like machine with attachments that looked like they could hurt somebody—he even backed into a corner away from it.

Suddenly, he heard a frightened grunt. Elijah spun to find it was Philip, who looked just as terrified of the floating globe as he was.

"Sorry!" Elijah squeaked meekly.

Just as the machines were oblivious, or deliberately ignoring the panicked cries of the rodents, the humans were going about their usual routines: repairing bits of machinery in the walls, gossiping like nobody's business, studying the readouts of consoles, standing at attention in the presence of their superiors as they marched past.

The little mouse noted more of the white armored men, and they looked, sounded, and smelled exactly the same. But there were a few with olive green or blue markings on their legs, arms, chests, and helmets; but they too smelled and sounded identical. There were men in dark gray or olive drab uniforms and caps, with blue and red squares on their chests; men with lighter gray overalls and black caps carrying boxes of tools; men in black uniforms with the open faced black helmets, carrying similar black objects to the ones the white armored men used.

Blue lights snaked along near the ceiling before giving way to white lights, then red lights. From their limited vantage point in the cages, the rodents could see that the black helmeted men and white armored men were growing in number significantly along the corridors. Every so often, a pair of guards would order the handlers to halt, state their business, check their identification and the cages, then the handlers were ordered to move on.

Finally, they reached a thick door with strange markings above it. None of the rodents could make them out. But Elijah could identify the shapes and markings that similar to the ones on the green and blue signs on the highway below the unfamiliar ones.

 **Level 1 Section B Turbolift**

Elijah supposed that the stranger shapes had a similar meaning to the more familiar shapes, and tried adding sounds to the former when his handler pressed the lift button.

"L–lev–el…eye? S–see–eck–tee–on… Buh… T–too–err–tour–buh...oh–tourbo—"

"Elijah, what are you doing?" Ages barked, breaking the youngster's concentration.

Elijah turned to face him. "I'm trying to see where we are, Mr. Ages. Maybe we can find a way out if we keep our eyes and ears open," he added hopefully.

Ages gave the youngster a long, suffering look. Were he to make mention of it, he would have said that it would have been an nearly impossible goal to achieve, especially given the fact that they were—heaven knew—miles underground.

But the door to the lift hissed open, and two officers slipped out, making the handlers jostle the cage to give way.

Two of the handlers manage to squirm in with their load. They advised the others to wait outside, much to their irritation as well as the animals they clawed and spat trying to break out of their cages. As the lift began to hum on its way two levels down, Elijah scanned the cylinder for some possible grates to slip through when they were finally let out. _If they'll let us out_ , a grim inside reminded him. He swallowed hard.

Finally, they reached their destination, the analysis labs.

Jonathan looked back at the lift. Although he got couldn't fully understand the words when he glimpsed them, he had a guess as to what they were: **Level 3 Section B Turbolift**.

He had to give Elijah credit: it was the way they came in alright. But what with all the men and machines they saw along the way, Jonathan seriously doubted they could actually get past all of that. If they could get their back up to the first level, and it was a big _if_ , it would be the streets their first day in the city all over again.

The handlers marched on through the corridors until they came upon the door with the words: **Specimen Analysis Laboratory**. Not surprisingly, there were more guards, the white armored men this time.

They demanded to know the handler's business and to hand them their IDs. Once that bit of business was done, one of them inquired, "Are these the test subjects Khorrus ordered?"

"Yes, sir," the lead handler answered. "They've been surprising docile since their capture. I would have expected them to act more aggressively toward us."

As if on cue, Jenner snarled and nipped at them. But the cage held him in check. The trooper glanced involuntarily at him, then looked back at the handler.

"Well, looks like that's the aggressive one that lot," he said dryly as the other rats came in to restrain their companion. The trooper cocked his head toward the door. "Go ahead, you've got the clearance."

Without another word, the handlers headed inside. As the door whooshed shut, Elijah had a very strange feeling that this was where the final ties to his past were severed, that the gate to that past had shut behind him forever.

* * *

Inside the examination labs, the nightmare of this strange place wasn't even beginning.

First, after the handlers had talked with three other humans, those humans began to pick each of the rodents up; looking them all over and pushing aside their ears or limbs to examine something, turning the animals onto their backs, examining their private body parts—making the poor creatures squirm. Any attempt to bite back was useless with their tails held down within each of the humans' fingers on one end and the scruff of their necks at the other.

Jonathan could do little against the humans in the long, white coats; so he shut his eyes, filled his mind with anything better than this place. When they were done, Jonathan was placed into another cage; this one was more like a shallow, transparent bin than a cage. He looked away in respect for the other mice undergoing their examination, especially Elijah.

One of the humans remarked upon noticing one of the she-rat's terror, "Poor little thing, he's frightened. Look how he's trembling."

The older man shook his head disgust. "Julie, what kind biologist are you? The 'poor little thing' happens to be a she, not a he." He then gestured toward the base of the tail. All the animals now looked away in horror and disgust.

Once all the healthy rats and mice were examined, counted and sorted, one of the tube-faced machines spoke to the older man in a synthesized tone. "Dr. Schultz, we will need to conduct specialized blood tests to confirm the health and durability of these specimens."

Schultz gave an exasperated sigh. "We're trained scientists, we know if an animal's healthy or not. They should be suitable enough—though I don't know about that little one," he added.

"Your objection is noted, Dr." the machine answered in a flat tone. "However, I have my orders: I am to conduct tissue and blood tests for analysis before the experiments may proceed. This 'little one,'" it lifted its appendage toward Elijah, "will be a clear cut indication for studying the effects of aging our serum has."

The machine gestured toward the door as two green uniformed guards entered. "You have done all that you can for now, Dr. Schultz. You and your colleagues are permitted to leave."

Schultz raised a hand in protest. "But—"

"C'mon," one of the soldiers said, grabbing his arm. "You'll tag 'em once we fully determine if they're suitable enough. Now let's go."

Jonathan snorted derisively as the three lab coats were escorted from the lab, but Elijah felt a sense of pity he couldn't explain. Some part of him told them that the humans weren't as happy about being a part of this as the rodents were. They were reaping what they had sown, Jonathan thought grimly.

Just then, a floating globe whirred and hovered into the room, making the animals shudder as it approached them in its unnatural locomotion. Elijah was the most terrified of them all. It was the tools he feared, and what their grim purpose would do to them.

Soon enough, they all found out, as the bipedal machine picked them up again and the globe pricked their sides with needles. As they did, they saw the tubes fill with small portions of red fluid. A shiver ran down the rodents' collective spine in realization that the machines were collecting their blood.

One by one, the machines sampled the blood from every one of the animals. Then Elijah was left. He backed away from the floating globe as it approached his cage. The little mouse made contact with the corner as the machine drew nearer and nearer.

"No! No, no, no, no! Get away, get away, get away!" Elijah swiped at the manipulative appendage of the bipedal machine, but it couldn't be diverted or forced open as it closed around him and lifted him out of the cage and toward the hovering machine, toward its needle arm. He shut his eyes and screamed.

Elijah felt the needle slide under his skin and drawing his blood. He imagined the white-hot pain of the needle, and the draining of his life from the machine's evil torture device. But as soon as the pain came, it was over.

Elijah panted as he was set back down. Soon enough, his fear of the machine was replaced by anger. He was angry because it had stolen a crucial and precious element to his life; he was angry that he allowed this thing to attack him and didn't fight back; he was angry because there was nothing he could have done about it.

Elijah staggered toward the wall of his cell, sucking in drafts of air shakily. Jonathan watched as the little one leaned his head and left arm against the wall to begin crying. The older mouse reached out his paw in sympathy.

* * *

Several hours later, most of the animals were relocated again. The rodents left behind realized that they were to be exterminated as pests. The survivors listened to the shrieks of the doomed as the machines placed their cages into slots before thick fumes flooded them. Never had they had a brush with death so close, and some even wished for it just they wouldn't suffer for what lay ahead.

The relocated animals were placed into a dimly lit room, each one placed into a new kind of cage with a shimmering red wall. Although they could see through those strange walls, their instincts warned them not to touch. Somehow, the buzzing of this part of the cage was warning enough, as well as a high pitched whine that the humans couldn't hear.

But just before the rodents were placed into their new prison cells, the white coated humans returned and fitted something around their necks. They were ID tags, with markings like the ones above the doors. The rats and mice tried to pull the tags off, or even nibble away at them, but it was no use. The tags simply couldn't be removed. As if things couldn't get worse, the tags flashed little red lights beeped at a frequency too low for the humans to hear.

Inside their cells were bottles of water with metal tubes on the end. Those tubes were blocked off by tiny metal balls that could be pushed back to allow the mice and rats to drink from them. Elijah thought the water was acceptable, cold and sweet upon his tongue and throat, but the food pellets in the bin were anything but appetizing.

As a matter of fact, Jonathan and Elijah disagreed on the subject of eating these pellets when the younger mouse found the other eating one like there was no tomorrow.

"Jonathan, why would you want to eat _that_?" Elijah asked, stunned at his older brother's bravado in eating it.

Jonathan looked up at him. "Why? It's the only source of food here and I have to."

"But it tastes awful!"

"I know," Jonathan sighed. "But some human kids could say the same about vegetables. I'm sure you know what I mean."

And Elijah did know what Jonathan meant; on one of the mornings in the market square, not once did they not see human children give the air a smell and turn their noses toward the vegetables. This alarmed Elijah and unsettled him. "But what's wrong with vegetables? They're not so bad!"

Jonathan shook his head. "I'm no expert on humans, but it seems that with the power they hold, making buildings and transportation to take them anywhere, they seem to believe that they're above nature itself. I'm guessing that humans have built up everything they know about that they think that they can get away with anything.

"If they don't want to eat vegetables, chances are they're going against their own instincts. All they're going to do is hurt themselves, hurt their own bodies. I can't believe that for all their power to create that they're destroying themselves in the process.

"But we understand better. We eat to live, not living to eat. And that's what we have to do."

Sighing, Elijah looked upon Jonathan, then back at the bland pellets. He hated to admit it, Jonathan was right. There was no other option for food. He would have to eat these nasty things or starve to death.

Besides that, he wasn't the only one unhappy with their supply of food. Several of the other mice and rats grumbled dreadfully about it. It would be a good role model for the rest of the animals to at least eat something to keep up their strength, even if he hated it.

The little mouse went over to the bin, picked up a pellet, and nibbled at it. It was as bland as he expected, but Elijah chewed and swallowed the first bite with grace.

Before he could take another, the door hissed open. A group of men entered, all wearing an assortment of clothing: lab coats, military uniforms, armor, and robes. But much to his surprise, two of the armored men had their helmets off and carried them under their armpits. What Elijah didn't expect was that two of the people who entered weren't men at all, or even human.

Jonathan gasped upon seeing the non-human females. They had long, gracile necks, almost purely white skin, flat faces, nearly black almond-shaped eyes, no hair at all. Although there was no menace in their walk and mannerisms, he was alarmed by the way they fixed their eyes upon him and the others clinically.

But what scared little Elijah was an older man. He had gray-white hair combed back neatly, a lean, frail build, and a hawk-like face with a gaze to match. Somewhere in his gut screamed at him that this man had evil intentions for the rodents. Elijah responded by backing away from him. Neither man nor mouse listened to the shorter uniformed man rambling on about the animals and their conditions.

The old man scanned the row of cages for some time before settling his gaze upon on. It was the one where the big nasty rat was. The rat glazed furiously at the man, it looked like he want to tear him apart.

But the man ignored this, resumed his study of the other animals, then said, "This is truly an accomplishment worthy of galactic recognition: once the Separatists have been defeated, we shall unveil what we are about to do here over the years and use this knowledge for the betterment of the galaxy."

Elijah cocked his head to the side bemused. Galactic recognition? The Separatists? The galaxy? What was he talking about? He looked to Jonathan who had the same expression of puzzlement.

Oddly enough, one of the uniformed men raised an eyebrow. But the older non-human female and the brown-robed man smiled warmly. "Well spoken, Your Excellency," the man lauded.

The uniformed man cleared his throat. "Now that we've completed our tour, I believe it is time for the Supreme Chancellor to escorted home while we attend to our duties here. This laboratory will serve as our home for a number of years—"

"Years?" The younger non-human female asked, apparently dismayed.

"Due to the high risk nature of this project, we are to remain and oversee it to conclusion—like it or not," the uniformed man added with a mutter.

The old man said, "Colonel, could you please see these gentlemen to their quarters? They've had a long journey and need rest. I will return to the shuttle soon, but first I wish to remain here for a short while."

The armored men and the uniformed man raised their eyebrows and stared at him. "Sir?"

"These creatures do not realize their importance, nor the sacrifice they will undergo for the good of the universe," the old man explained patiently.

The brown robed man seemed to show a look of sympathy for the old man. Then he bowed his head solemnly. "As you wish, Supreme Chancellor." Then everybody but the Chancellor turned to leave.

As the Chancellor stood alone in the room, Elijah felt something was very wrong as the man approached the cage where he took interest in the rat: everything felt cold, like the very warm of life itself was sucked into this human. The Chancellor seemed to radiate power despite his slow gait and aged frame.

Power. Misery. Fear.

Elijah shuddered again as he watched the human standing before the imprisoned rat. The rat seemed to be hypnotized by the man's very presence. They remained like this for minutes. Suddenly, something flashed in the human's eyes, blazing like yellow-red fire before returning to normal. Then the rat bowed its head in reverence.

Elijah looked away from the man as he left. As soon as he was gone, warmth flooded back into the little mouse. Never before had he felt so thankful for this; thankful that the man had left him alone and that he didn't have to undergo the process that the rat did. Whatever it had been, Elijah didn't want to know.

Sighing, he turned back to the pellet he had dropped and nibbled at it again.

* * *

Every mouse and rat in the room thought that the examinations, the tagging, and the blooding drawing were the worst of it—that the worst was over. So far, they ate whatever amount of pellets they could stomach. Elijah had one and half more, his lunch, dinner, and breakfast. His bedtime was governed by everybody else's internal clocks, when they went to sleep he went to sleep. This was their way of life now, and everybody thought they would rot in their new prison and die from boredom.

They couldn't have been more wrong.

All the animals jumped upon the door hissing open. In stepped the humans from the examination, along with the skull-faced machines and the floating globe. The hovering machine made a slow, hypnotic hum that terrified every living thing in the room. As before, it carried the needle that drew their blood. But this time, it was filled with an amber fluid.

The humans studied the controls of the cages, the rats inside them, then looked at one another worriedly.

"Alright, you get in front of it, George, while I turn off the gate" the older man said.

The young man did as he was instructed. The older man pressed a button, and deactivated the cage's red field gate. Before the rat had realized what was happening, the younger man had scooped it up and held it by the scruff of the neck and the base of the tail.

Held immobilized, the rat could only watch as the machine hovered closer and closer toward him. Sweat seeped through his fur and matted it as the hum grew faster and faster. Elijah watched in horror as the needle slid under the rat's skin, and a silent scream escaped its mouth. It convulsed violently as the needle was withdrawn like he had touched a live wire. Suddenly, as quickly as it started, it stopped.

The young human frowned. "What happened? Is it dead?"

The older man took the limp rat from him, felt around his body, frowned for a few minutes before he found what he was looking for. "No… there's still a pulse. It's faint, but he's still alive. From the look of it, he's in immense shock."

The senior faced the globe machine, then the skull-faced machine, his face pleaded with it not to continue. But neither showed any sign of pity. Instead, it took the unconscious rat and placed it back in its cage. Then it gestured toward the globe and it moved on to the next test subject.

Elijah stood there in mute horror as the human and machine team picked up the rat, stabbed it with the needle, and pumped in the strange liquid into it before moving on the following animal. Every animal jerked and twitched just as violently as the first rat had with each injection before going comatose.

It didn't take long before it was his turn, just before Jonathan. He felt the gloved thumb and index of the young man holding the scruff of the neck down, with his tail held within the crook of the pinkie finger. Elijah tried to squirm in the man's grip, but it was useless. The little mouse watched helplessly as the needle drew closer and closer to him.

Then it pierced his side and pumped the fluid into him.

Elijah's eyes widened.

His heart was beating faster and faster, everything seemed be moving at an inconceivably slow pace. Suddenly, Elijah felt heat from the puncture spread from its source throughout his whole body, like he was some tiny volcano about to erupt from the unexpected pressure within. He clenched at himself from where he was pricked before he felt the lightning course through him, quick and jolting up and down his spine and throughout all of his nerves.

A terrible thought came to him at lightspeed before he blacked out that he might explode.

Out of the corner of his eye, Elijah managed to glimpse Jonathan screaming for him. His mouth opened, but no sound came. But Elijah _had_ heard it, not with his ears. He heard with a sense beyond all his natural senses.

Soon enough, he too heard his own scream for Jonathan with that strange supersense. But he never actually made a sound either.

Darkness didn't creep at the edges of the young mouse's vision, it engulfed him all at once. Elijah felt himself fall into its fathomless abyss. Then everything became still as stars came out and filled the black void before him.

* * *

" _Master, sir, I heard Yoda talking about 'midi-chlorians.'"_

 _The child's voice echoed through Elijah's unconscious mind. Soon, a vision of the child, a human boy in filthy clothes, materialized before him, and he was facing a much older man wearing a beard, long gray-brown hair, and brown and tan robes. They were surrounded by a cityscape the likes of which the little mouse had never seen before with the man kneeling before the boy._

 _The fire in Elijah's veins and nerves, the jolts, and the tightening of his muscles were but a distant memory; here he was free from the bounds of the physical world. Here he could relax and let the universe flow around him as he watched._

" _I've been wondering," the boy continued. "What_ are _midi-chlorians?"_

" _Midi-chlorians," the man answered, shifting his stance slightly, "are a microscopic lifeform that resides in all living cells."_

 _The boy's expression was a mixture of confusion and alarm. "They live inside me?"_

" _Inside your cells, yes." The man placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "And we are symbionts with them."_

" _Symbionts?"_

" _Lifeforms living together for a mutual advantage," was the man's explanation. "Without the midi-chlorians, life could not exist, and we_ _would have no knowledge of the Force. They continuously to speak us, telling us the will of the Force."_

 _The vision faded, and new voices echoed._

" _The Force?" This time, it was a young man._

 _Elijah found himself inside a simple stone hut with an old man in robes similar to the man in the earlier vision, and a younger man in a loose white tunic._ _The older man was smiling. "Now the Force is what gives a Jedi his power; it's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, it penetrates us, and it binds the galaxy together."_

 _The younger man nodded, still bewildered by what he had heard. Elijah felt empathy for him—he didn't understand any of this either. He wanted to know how he was seeing these things and why; what a "galaxy" was; how exactly did the midi-chlorians keep him alive and what the "mutual advantage was;" what these lifeforms had to do with the Force. He also wondered what "the will of the Force" was and what it wanted with him and Jonathan._

 _He hadn't had time to wonder: what_ had _those injections done to him?_

 _Elijah's next vision took him to a swamp with a strange, green-skinned, elfin-eared creature in brown robes. "My ally is the Force, and a powerful ally, it is. Life creates it, makes it grow; its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."_

 _The young man from before was there, but in an olive-drab tank top. The creature pinched his shoulder to emphasize the point it made. "You must feel the Force around you," the robed being made a sweeping gesture before he too disappeared with the young man._

 _Elijah shook his head vigorously as the words echoed in his mind. If he_ felt _the Force, what was it supposed to do? And how_ was _he supposed to feel it anyway? Did it have the power to free him and Jonathan from this nightmare? Or even the lab?_

" _Anakin," the old man's voice from the lab resounded in the dark—_ was _the darkness that enveloped the little mouse's mind. "Are you familiar with_ The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise _?"_

" _No," The young man, 'Anakin,' replied._

" _Ah, I thought not," came the old man's reply. Anakin and the man—the latter wearing more elaborate, and colorful, robes—were seated in a private box overlooking a water globe with fish-like ballet dancers._

" _It is not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend, of a Dark Lord who had turned his sight inward so deeply that he had come to comprehend, and master, life itself. And," he continued, "because the two are one when seen clearly enough—death itself."_

 _Elijah felt a chill rush through him from what he said. Anakin sat up straight. From what Elijah saw, the human must have felt a similar chill. "He could keep someone from death?"_

" _According to the legend," the old man said, "he could directly influence the midi-chlorians to create life; with such knowledge, to maintain life within somebody already living would seem a small matter, don't you agree?"_

 _The mouse trembled. The words held a power he couldn't even begin to fathom. It grew worse when he noticed Anakin was no longer frightened by the idea, but he seemed to like it. "Stronger than_ death _..." the young man murmured. Elijah became more alarmed; the idea to resist death this way was..._

" _The Dark Side seems to be—from my reading—the pathway to many abilities some would consider unnatural." Then darkness swallowed the two humans._

 _Elijah suddenly felt the burning again. Before him appeared hundred, then thousands of the white armored figures alongside beings of many species in brown robes on a sandy flat. Blue-white bolts streaked toward robotic, alien soldiers. Those troops, in turn, returned fire with angry red-gold blasts. But the blasts were repelled, and deflected back by the brown robed beings, wielding blue, green, yellow, and amethyst shafts of light held in their hands through small, metal cylinders. When the light wielders reached the robots, they sliced and hacked at them like swords._

 _Elijah was awed by the battle's ferocity and scale, but baffled as words and meanings came into his mind; battle droids, clone troopers, Jedi Knights, lightsabers, Galactic Republic, the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the Clone Wars._

 _Elijah wondered, how was this possible? What purpose was meant for him to know about such things? Was this what the injections were supposed to do? If so, why?_

 _Soon he was surrounded by stars, and around the stars, he saw various colored balls in strange patterns. Suddenly, he felt himself rushing toward a ball, and then stopped once he had settled on its surface. Across deserts, ice plains, jungles, grasslands, beaches, sinkholes, and canyons, the Jedi and the armored troopers battled their way through the hordes of machines. Nothing could stop them!_

 _Elijah was in awe. From what he gathered, it seemed like the Jedi were capable of using "the Force" to move at incredible speeds and heights, move things without touching them, and knowing where the enemy before they got there, as well as nearly every shot to be deflected. Despite this, Elijah took some comfort in a feeling that assured him the Jedi and the troopers were good._

 _Then the terrible thing happened. The voice of the old man talking to Anakin said, "It is time, execute Order 66."_

 _Elijah watched in horror as the troopers took their huge rifles and aimed them at the Jedi. Many fell before they understood what had happened; some of them managed put up some form of defense against their troops before they too were cut down by the blue bolts. He tried to call out, to warn them, but it was futile. With each Jedi's death, Elijah felt the burning stabs again, something he hadn't felt since his parents died. He realized how very much connected their lives were to him._

 _Now Elijah found himself in a rotunda of thousands of creatures not unlike the brown-robed figures, but they were in more elaborate costumes and robes. A tower stood in the middle of the chamber. A blue horned man, a bald woman with a high colored cloak, and the old man—a much, much older version of him, twisted by age and evil—wore a crimson cloak and robes stood on the podium of the tower._

" _These Jedi murderers left me_ scarred _, left me_ deformed _," he told the assembly, "but they could not scar my_ integrity _! They could not deform my_ resolve _! The remaining traitors will be hunted down, rooted out wherever they may hide, and brought to justice, dead or alive! All collaborators will suffer the same fate. Those who protect the enemy_ are _the enemy! Now is the time! Now we will strike back! Now we will_ destroy _the_ destroyers _!_ Death to the enemies of democracy!"

 _Everybody cheered. All except for a few which Elijah saw to be bewildered, frightened, and even sad. Some had little to no expression at all, but their eyes usually gave away the pain they felt, the same pain he felt for the fallen warriors. Elijah couldn't explain it, but he felt as if his will was in accord with theirs, that they were trying to avoid something like this._

 _The old man continued. "This has been the most trying of times, but we have passed the test. The war is_ over _! The Separatists have been utterly defeated, and the_ Republic will stand _!_ _United! United and_ free _!"_

 _Roaring cheers filled the hall. A man in a dark goatee, and a woman, watched in anticipation and dread. Elijah didn't know why, but he felt and feared for them especially. He also despised the twisted old man and what he did to the Jedi, how murdering them hurt him in turn, like he didn't care about it._

" _The Jedi Rebellion was our final test—it was the last gasp of the forces of darkness! Now we have left that darkness behind us forever, and a new day has begun! It is morning in the Republic!_

" _Never again will we be divided! Never again will sector turn against sector, planet turn against planet,_ sibling _turn against_ sibling _. We are one nation,_ indivisible _!_

" _To ensure that we will always stand together, that we will always speak with a single voice and act with a single hand, the Republic must change. We must_ evolve _. We must grow. We have become an empire in fact; let us become an Empire in name as well! We_ are _the first Galactic Empire!_

" _We are an Empire that will continue to be ruled by this august body! We are an Empire that will never return to the political maneuvering and corruption that have wounded us so deeply; we are an Empire that will be directed by a single sovereign, chosen for_ life _!"_

 _More thunderous cheers filled the rotunda. With every passing moment, they grew louder and louder, stronger and stronger. And still, there were those frightened, grief-stricken beings horrified with this new development; Elijah was among them, even if he didn't understand why._

" _We are an Empire ruled by the_ majority _! An Empire ruled by a new Constitution! An Empire of_ laws _, not of politicians! An Empire devoted to the preservation of a just society. Of a_ safe _and_ secure _society! We are an Empire that will_ stand ten thousand years _!_

" _We will celebrate the anniversary of this day as_ Empire Day _. For the sake of our_ children _. For our children's children! For the next ten thousand years! Safety! Security! Justice and peace!_

" _Say it with me! Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace! Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace!"_

 _The man's expression was aghast as the assembly chanted along. Then, to the mouse, the woman's voice could be heard over the chant. But it was a sad whisper: "So this is how liberty dies; with cheering, and thunderous applause."_

 _Darkness took over once more. Another vision began to materialize into night sky with no land beneath it. There was a moon in the field of stars, but it looked more like a shiny blue water drop covered in clouds and rocks with moss all over._

 _Suddenly, four wedge-shaped objects that resembled armored skyscrapers on their sides appeared from above. Green-yellow bolts streaked from the objects toward the blue orb. Miniature suns appeared where they struck, then disappeared. The process continued over and over until the entire orb became a charred ember, with melted rock pouring from cracks on the surface like blood._

 _Elsewhere, a village was on fire. The whole area around it blistered with flames caused by clanging bird-like machines spewing red bolts of destructive energy. Elephantine machines and white armored troopers similar to the clones accompanied them. But their armor had changed to reflect the new, mechanized regime they now served._ _Innocent beings of every size and form ran for their lives from the attackers._

 _The pain from the injections strengthened from the deaths and suffering of these creatures! Elijah was appalled. They weren't as strong in the Force, but he felt them through it nonetheless. No wonder those men in the lab coats didn't want to carry out their tests in the first place! They feared that they would could hurt the mice and rats with this._

 _But these weren't the only atrocities Elijah witnessed; a gray uniformed man ordering another being from his home, and several troopers were beating him when he protested; creatures of every kind were forced to construct and repair the machines and weapons their oppressors used; people being subjected to unspeakable tortures; and a metal moon firing a green-yellow beam at another world, destroying it utterly to rubble._

 _It should have been a relief when shadow took it all away. But Elijah still felt the fire from the injections; and had been growing worse with the visions of death. Now, it was reaching its peak as a small blue-white light appeared before him._

" _For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic," the old man's voice from the hut echoed. "Before the Dark Times; before the Empire."_

 _The light grew in strength with his words, as did the youngster's agony. Soon, he saw nothing but light._

Then, he woke up.


End file.
